High stakes

   The wind blew gently through the trees. Some pinecones and dried leaves fell softly to the ground and small animals ran to their holes in the ground or in the trees. The weather was getting worse by the minute and they could all feel it. All except for Samira. She was a rather beautiful woman wearing a dress to big to walk around the wood. It had already been ripped apart in some areas and it looked dirty. Some stains on it were because of mud and water but others were clearly blood.

 Samira didn’t stop when the wind got stronger. She kept on walking through the forest, as she tried to make her dress fit between the trees and not get ripped apart more. But that wasn’t possible. She finally stopped when the forest got too dense and it was much darker in the ground that in the upper area of the trees. She just stayed there, in the spot she was, and waited. Sure enough, rain came some minutes after. The trees were protection enough but she got very wet anyhow.

 As the rain poured onto her, Samir began to cry, finally breaking down. She fell to her knees, which was not something very easy to do in that dress, and cried her eyes off. It was confusing to see the rain on her face and also the tears. It was difficult to know what was what but thanks to all that water she was able to finish crying fast and started thinking about what to do next. She had come a long way, or so she thought, and there was no way she would stop midway through the woods.

 Realizing her dress couldn’t come with her, she carefully removed it. It wasn’t easy as it opened in the back and there was no one to help her with that. But after a couple of tries, the zipper lowered enough for her to grab it and pull it down. Carefully she removed the top part and then pulled the dress down her legs. She moved to a side and the dress stood there, as if a ghost was still wearing it in that part of the woods.

 She felt cold and sad to leave her gown behind but life was much more important. So she kept on going. She had been barefoot for a while, as the heels she had been wearing had gotten stood in thick mud not very far from the edge of the forest. Samira decided to keep walking the way she was walking, sure that it was the right direction in order to get away from everything.

 The trees grew closer in that area, which was better for her because rain almost didn’t get to the floor. She was cold and trembling, but at least she could clean some of the water of her body as she walked over pieces of rotten wood, mud, puddles of water and tons of leaves that autumn was taking away from the forest. She didn’t stop until it was very dark and she realized she had to sleep at least a few hours.

 She chose a place between two trees where there was a huge natural bed made of leaves. She didn’t sleep much though, because her brain kept telling her to keep moving, that she wasn’t safe yet and that she just couldn’t get all relaxed and happy yet. Samira had to go on through the forest and then arrived to the fields and, after that, the ocean. At least that’s how she remembered it was. If she had mistaken her route, it would be a major problem.

 After only three hours of sleep, she kept on moving through the trees, in the dark. Sometimes, she had to clean her tears with her dirty hands because se remembered something she had left behind, like her mother and all the beautiful memories of being who she was. Samira had left much more than anyone else had ever left before and the decision had already been taken. And she was sure she had made the right choice. There was no other way around it.

 Finally, she reached the other edged of the forest and, as she had expected, there were fields after fields of different kinds. It was the rural area that preceded the ocean, were most of the food was grown in order for the whole country to have food in their plate. Or at least that had been the idea behind it. Her mother had been the one who had convinced her father to do something like that.

 He always needed someone to convince him, someone to tell him what he should do next. People around him were too kind to tell him that he wasn’t good at his job, at all. But he had advisors and he had Samira’s mother and that could be enough to be mildly successful as a ruler. People liked him but did not love him and it was the same for the family as a whole. However, that worked just fine for everyone. It was the barely minimum, as someone had pointed our once.

 Samira entered the field and hoped the people that worked in them wouldn’t be around for some time still. Because if they saw her, they would ask her why she was practically naked in their property. But after some walking, she realized it was far too early for anyone to be around there. Besides, it was an orange plantation and the fruits were just beginning to grow, so no big masses of people would look after those.

 She walked fast through the small trees until she reached a house. The lights were off. But, most interestingly, the family that lived inside had let a large assortment of clothing to dry out in the sun. Maybe they had forgotten to put it inside or maybe it had been because of the rain. Anyway, some of the things were not really wet so Samir stole a white blouse and some pants.

 The only problem was her hair. It wasn’t that long but it was kind of obvious who she was. She found the solution only a couple steps away, in the shape of some gardening scissors someone had left inside a bucket. She grabbed the scissors, got her head a bit wet with water that had fallen into the bucket and started cutting. It took her a long time to get it even or what felt like even. They had no mirrors on the outside. The sun was rising and when she heard a metallic sound from inside the house, she knew she had to go.

 Samira penetrated the fields again and soon reached another plantation, a cornfield that looked ready to be picked. She had to find a road or something before she got mistaken with a worker or accused of being a thief. So she ran away in a different direction and ended up in a dirt road that seemed to link every single field in the area. There, she could walk down to the sea easier.

 The day began and people were pouring from every single place. Soon, there were carts passing through the dirt road and people working hard on the fields. There were even children playing with mud outside the houses. She thought it was something nice to see, that kind of routine and simple life of the people that worked the land. She even thought about staying but it was only for a second.

 She had to make it to a boat and get fast away from there. She had no choice. Samira had done something she really shouldn’t have and it wasn’t something that got forgiven. Maybe her parents could, but not her promised husband, He had been humiliated in public and soon everyone would know how she ran away form her in the wedding dress, fleeing an arranged wedding with one of the most powerful men in the country.

 What she had done could have serious implications for everyone, not only for her. After all, her marriage had to be fulfilled in order to for m an alliance between different powers in the region: between the wisdom and the strength, or that’s what her father said. But she couldn’t bear to be forced into something like that, out of nowhere. She had not known she was going to marry that man the morning of the wedding.

 Now, Samira looked like a lost boy, asking for work in one of the many ships that made it into the harbor, bringing fish and other goods from other places of the world. Finally, a crab fishing crew accepted her. Their captain happened to be a female, a woman that noticed right away that Samira was not the boy she was faking to be. The girl sailed that afternoon but her adventures were far from over.

Locked

   I woke up very late at night, practically in the morning but it was still very dark. Out of instinct, I headed to the kitchen and drank some water, somehow exhausted after sleeping for a couple of hours. Some of the water spilled onto the floor but I didn’t clean any of it. I was too tired to do it, maybe too lazy.

 Walking towards my room, I found myself looking out the window on the living room. The rain was pounding the glass with an extraordinary force, not stopping for a second. Outside it was still pitch black and nothing could be seen except the light of a couple of streetlights covered in the haze. Somehow, that sight proved fascinating but not because it was extraordinary or something like that. It just reminded of something a long time ago, somewhere else.

  He had been removing rocks and dirt until he found it, a shoebox that didn’t look like much but had a small treasure inside. The directions he had received had been correct and now he could finally complete his mission, a very strange one that had been commended by someone he loved deeply. He put the box on a bag to protect it from the rain and ran towards his car. At first, the machine wouldn’t start but it finally did and he was en route to his lover, prepared to see the look on his face when he received the box.

 He called the man and arranged for them to meet on a restaurant. After all, they didn’t really want their families to know and it was going to be much more fun to do it in a public place, with a some eyes looking at them and not even knowing what was going on. He arrived at the restaurant first; a little too wet, and decided to ask for a tea to warm up. The bag with the box was next to him and he had decided not to open it to see its content. He wanted to see Lee’s face when he showed it to him.

 Time went by fast. He ordered another tea and then something to eat and finally the check. He had been waiting for three hours and Lee had never arrived. He felt sad, a little bit betrayed, and knew that all his effort and, a very probable flu, had not being enough for him to show how much love he had for Lee. When he got home, his mother asked him where he had been all day but he didn’t really answer, only grunting and heading straight to his room. He even put on the lock and turn off the lights.

 There was no way he was going to sleep well that night. He hadn’t received a call or a message or anything from Lee and he was determined not to do anything because he was the one who had made a great effort to make Lee happy so at least he deserved to receive a call explaining why he had alone at the restaurant all night.

 The next day, Lee went to work and there he did receive a first message. It was an audio message so he had to put on the headphones he kept in his backpack and try to listen to the message fast, before someone came in to annoy him. At first he didn’t really understood anything. He raised the volume and tried to hear but then someone came and scared him, making him drop his cellphone, which got disconnected from the headphones and started yelling the message for everyone to hear. He was very fast, grabbing it and turning it off, but not fast enough as everyone in the room was watching towards his cubicle. The person that had come to ask him something, left without any more words.

 The message was short. It was Lee crying and telling him that he loved him and that his parents had discovered their pictures kissing on the computer. He didn’t explain how that had happened but he was crying a lot and that was why the message couldn’t be understood in a lower volume.

 He was sad to hear that Lee was sad and even thought of visiting him but he knew his family would not allow that. After all, they were the kind to go to church every Sunday without fail and they celebrated every single day of the Holly Week and Easter and the days leading to Christmas. They were really obsessed with their children having a religious education and strong background. They believe that it gave them a strong moral compass. So that’s why discovering those pictures had been such an awful thing for them. It mean they were failing.

 So there was no way to see Lee. And, ironically or not, he missed his kisses and his hands and his body. He missed the fact that he was a little more sensitive than he was but also much wittier and he didn’t even know it. He was the kind of person that would be ashamed if someone else called them “smart” or “funny”. He didn’t like to be in the spotlight at all, preferring to be the one behind the scenes.

 That phrase is actually pretty accurate because that’s how he met Lee, behind the scenes. He had gone to see this play a friend had recommended and he had never been a big fan of theatre. It bored him deeply every single time so in the intermission he decided to explore around and just look for something fun to do. The exploration served him well as he found a very busy Lee trying to fix some problem with a prop that wouldn’t stand up. He helped him put of boredom and at the end he was already enthralled.

 He had liked his kind face, his voice that was very soft but not acute and the fact that he was there, on the background, all alone. He knew only someone really interesting would be there. They exchanged phone numbers and that was it.

 They only talked many days after that, when he found Lee’s number again and decided it would be nice to have someone to go to an exhibition on a museum he had to attend because of his work. The idea was to have someone to have fun in a place where he knew he would get bored. But Lee was a box full of surprises. He was actually very interested in the subject matter of the exhibition and explained him how everything worked and what it all meant. So it was much more interesting that he had thought before hand and he was able to know more about the guy that kept entering his brain when he wasn’t aware.

 They met several times in the following months and then he asked Lee If he wanted to be his boyfriend. Lee accepted but explained his family situation to him, which didn’t made any difference at all, not back then in any case. They had been together for some months until the parents found four innocent pictures of the two guys kissing and then they treated their own son like a prisoner, not letting him out. He worked from home, writing for a magazine, so he kept his work and they kept paying him but they didn’t know what was happening with him.

 Lee did not have many friends but those few he had tried to enter his house several times and they succeeded on some of them. They were able to tell him what had been going on outside and ask him if he wanted something from the outside. His parents had removed any device from his room so he took the chance to write a letter to him and give to his friend for her to take it to him. It was the only way.

 She was a very kind person who he did not know very well but one day she called him and arranged a meeting. She told him everything about Lee and what he was going through and, after some hesitation; he gave the letter to him. After he read it, he was crying profusely, not knowing what to do or where to go. He felt very lost and insecure. He felt nothing made sense anymore. He wanted to fight everyone himself and let them see what he was capable of but the letter had been very clear: nothing would work.

 The relationship ended and Lee transformed into a faceless god that I see every single time this kind of storm unleashes all its strength against the world. I remember wanting to be like the storm, going against everything in order to get what I wanted. But Lee is a part of my past. Almost a year has gone by and I don’t know anything about him and I think its better that way. Maybe he hasn’t been freed or maybe he was sent somewhere else. Or maybe, just maybe, he’s now free and doesn’t want me to see him ever again.

 I don’t care. He had a special place in my heart. And his treasure is still there, in the top shelf of my closet, waiting to be opened.

Dogs love rainy days

  There were puddles of rain everywhere, forming small lakes, an interconnected system of fluids that occupied a large area in the center of the park. The storm that had hit the city the night before had been very strong and it was a miracle that all that remained from it were a couple of puddles and some tree branches that workers from the city had already cleaned up, right before the largest amount of people came into the park in the morning.

 Some children had already begun to enjoy the mud in the puddles and the parents let them be, seeing it was good they could at least go out to the park and have some fun.

 Pet owner Loretta had decided too that her small dog needed to breath after being kept inside for the duration of the storm, which had lasted about three straight days. The poor dog didn’t really like to live in an enclosed environment and would get really annoying very fast. Loretta walked the poor Roger all around the park, enjoying the mud and the wet trees and the large amount of other dogs that had also come out to play and were visibly as excited as Roger to be in the park.

 Loretta decided to let him off his leash, as she knew he wouldn’t go very far. She had trained him to follow only her voice and it seemed to work some weeks ago when they visited a relative of hers in the countryside and Roger would come back after having scared every single sheep possible.

 So the dog went away with other dogs as his owner chatted with the other humans. The first thing the dogs did was going to the large area where everything was mud. They enjoyed it a lot as they could play with one another while feeling the refreshing scent and texture of wet dirt. For a dog, that combination was a winning one and it was really difficult to explain why. Maybe it was because it reminded them of their most basic instincts; of the jungles and forests their ancestors had gone through, hunting, before their domestication.

 After almost covering their entire bodies with mud and under the close surveillance of at least one of the humans, they ran to the place where all the fallen branches had been put into a big pile. It was a very big mound made of sticks and leaves. Each one of the dogs tried to grab a stick to play with but most of them were just able to pull some leaves out of them. The branches were very thick and it was after several minutes struggling that they realized the mound was full of bugs.

 There were some beetles and worms and a myriad of other little creatures that had come down to the ground when the storm had pulled every single one of those branches down. The whole ecosystem of the trees had been messes with by the storm but that’s something neither dogs nor humans care about. The dogs barked at the branches for some time at which point one of the owners had to come with a special whistle and distract them away from the pile and closer to the rest of the people.

 The dogs obeyed for a while but then they left for the other side of the park, where the real lake was located. The geese and ducks that lived in it were nowhere to be seen; possibly resting in some of the homes humans had built for them. The dogs normally loved to chase them; barking at them and making them run like crazies. But the surface of the lake was now like a mirror and the water was as cold as it was normally in the winter.

 However, the dogs encountered a group of elderly humans entering the water. They were doing so through an area that looked like a tropical beach but without the palm trees or the warm climate. Yet, there were about nine men and women there, dressed up in their swimming outfits, about to enter the chilly water.

 Somehow, the dogs felt it was something that had to be seen and, besides, they knew elderly humans were mostly kind to them and loved to pet them and feed them. So there was probably no problem if they got near.

 The humans slowly entered the water, laughing and complaining. But after some time they were all inside, asking others how cold it was and saying the water felt really good all around their bodies. The lake also had many branches and leaves and felt dirtier than usual but that didn’t bother them

 The dogs got bored fast and decided to move on into a square were many events took place. There were fountains, from where they drank some water, and many children that would come and pet them, some softer, some harder. Contrary to popular belief, not all dogs like children. Some of them loved the firm hand of an adult human instead of the hesitating one of a child. They were too insecure for some of them and dogs needed reassuring instead of hesitation.

 When one of them started barking to a girl, who instantly began to cry, one of the owners came and took him away. With humans, if you overreacted in any time, you could lose all the privileges you enjoyed, so the smartest dogs tried to be as calm as possible, only sounding the alarm if something really didn’t made sense to them.

 The pack went on to the only area of the park they had not explored that day: the forest. It wasn’t really a proper forest, instead a small area covered in the former woodland that had been present in the area before the city started to grow without control. It had been preserved because some birds would rest there in the spring and in the summer and even in the months leading to winter when every single flying creature escaped to warmer climates.

 The best thing to do in those woods was to smell the ground and everything around it. Some branches had been picked up here and the dogs were eager to try and pick them up, as a present for their owners. At least half of them, eager to show some proof of how much love they had to give, had already grabbed a branch and left the woods to go their masters and show what they had found. That would probably begin a whole game that could last for hours.

 Only some of them remained, of them was Roger. He was not the type of dog that liked branches. He loved the toys he had back home, the kind that made a wheezy noise when he grabbed them in his snout. Branches were not that big for him so he kept on smelling the floor of the forest and noticed something almost right away: the smell of piss.

 He instantly went crazy, eager to find out the source. But as he sniffed more of it and other dogs followed him, he realized that odor had not come from a dog. Actually, it hadn’t come from any other animal. He recognized it as the smell of human piss. Roger knew it well from his adventures in Loretta’s bathroom. He noticed, though, that the smell was a bit stronger this time and decided to follow the trail, because there was one.

 The dogs then arrived at the thickest part of the forest that was located by the perimeter fence that enclosed the whole park. The odors here were strangely stronger and it was very particular because the storm was strong enough to clean up all of that. Any human who had pissed around those trees, had to have done it after the storm was over, very early in the day, even in the dark.

 Then Roger began to bark. Others dog did the same. What he sniffed next was not pissed and it was something he knew was bad. So he barked loud and clear. The human that followed them came first and remained speechless for a minute, then left yelling, probably asking for help. The rest of the owners and many others came in, including two humans in uniform. They got closer to Roger and other dogs and checked what they had found.

 It was the body of a male human, all covered in leaves. His pants were still wet and his mouth was covered by some kind of plastic. Roger kept barking until Loretta came and took him away. Apparently some humans did not like to stay indoors, just like him.

Thoughts by the beach

   As I woke up, I felt the soft caress of the sun on my back and feet. I also felt it all over my body: my arms, my thighs, my neck. It was just the best way to wake up and to remember what is great about the holidays and the world. Work and work and work. Who even likes doing that? I doubt anyone does. People should learn have to live for their work; their work should revolve around them. That obsession for perfecting things for someone else, I will never understand. What is so great about being a slave? Why are so many people proud of that? They parade around parties and life declaring to anyone that will listen how much they love their work and how much they do for it. To me, that always sounds pathetic, even if their work is actually great.

 As I turn over and feel the sun on my chest, tummy and legs, and most importantly on my face, I realize that I’m not one of those people. I mean. I don’t even have a job. No one has ever given me the chance to prove my worth as an employee and that will probably never happen as I’m a writer and the game there is a little bit different, although I guess I’ll have to be nice to my editor and my publisher, once I’m finally in that situation. No, I’d rather not think about that right now. Why would I ruin such a beautiful day by torturing myself again with the same thing again? It wouldn’t make sense and I’m simply not interested on feeling like crap just for the sake of it. I have felt like that before and I have to say that I’m not a fan.

 I sit down on the sand and look at the ocean, hearing the beautiful sound it makes. I don’t hear the children playing ball or the youngsters with their music and loud conversation, I only hear the ocean and its beautiful sound that makes any soul become calm. It is nice to think about all the people that have sat where I’m seating and have wondered about life, just as I do. This beach has to have a very big history of tourists and locals that span many years. Many some woman waited for her husband to come back home here. Or maybe, two men realized they loved each other right here. Or maybe a little girl discovered the beauty of the night sky and grew older loving the stars and constellations.

 To me, the world is always amazing by itself, but some people make it a little bit more special. Not every person has that gift, though. Some people actually make some places even less special than before, which is something pretty difficult to make unless you’re a really shitty person. But the world is filled with them. To be honest, I do think the world has more good people than bad people. But it also has more dumb people than clever people. And I don’t only mean according to education, because sometimes a man can be really smart without going to school and another man holding a doctorate can be the biggest moron you have ever seen. Because knowledge and intelligence are two very different things.

 I’ve known my fair share of guys that are just full of knowledge but almost entirely non-intelligent. And no, there’s no relation to stereotypes that people have because there’s always someone that breaks the stereotype. But there other that are walking proof of them, like a photographer who wears sunglasses and a long coat or a stupid blonde. Those are proofs of stereotypes. But, of course, there are many exceptions to all those “rules” and it’s not difficult to find them. People are just not that simple to categorize because they have a way of always surprising you with what they do. Have you ever felt that, that completely confusion sense of aw in front of someone you had no idea existed?

 The sand feels really nice on the feet, especially after walking so much from home to the beach. I touch it with my hands too and realize the grains are very soft, which feels even better on the body. A game of volleyball has started very near and the kids that were playing with a ball are now running around the beach with a kite on their hands. It’s funny to me how some parents have everything their kid might need on their car or, in the case of mother’s, in their purse. It’s like a magic trick although, it saddens me because they bring so many things and it makes me wonder if the reason for it is that they don’t really know what their kids like. Parents have always been oblivious to tings like that but now more than ever.

 I’m not saying that parents before were amazing because they weren’t always or all of them. But isn’t it more and more common to see a couple just ignoring their kids instead of hearing them and seeing what their opinion is of the world? Isn’t that interesting to everyone: to hear what a child, a person that hasn’t been here long, has to say about the world? Of course, kids are biased because they learn by looking and by repetition, not much difference to birds. The difference is that many kids, if raised right, have the gift of doubt from an early age. I don’t think I’m going to have any children, but if I ever do I hope they are inquisitive at all times, doubting everything and asking questions when they feel like it.

 I’d rather have that than some kids that only drool and cry, a reflection on bad parenting I guess. Oh, there they are. It’s those gym guys that always come to the beach to play volleyball after they have been working out in front of everyone. To me, that’s some funny shit. And sorry if I offend you by saying that but, honesty is paramount. People get so obsessed and fixated on something that it can become their whole lives. I mean, yes, the guys are very hot and sexy and attractive but they’re not interesting or at least they don’t look like it. Another stereotype I guess. Yeah, there’s the ball and they have started playing, like clockwork. And I noticed I’m not the only one watching.

 But that makes me turn my head and face the ocean again, which seems a little bit darker that before. I look up and see a big gray cloud, hovering just parallel to the beach. But my head it’s still with the boys playing volleyball. I instantly cover myself by pressing my legs against my chest and by “hugging” my legs. As I put my chin on one of my knees, I realize what it is about those guys that I don’t like. Well, I already know but it is awful to be reminded that I have a way of feeling less than them. Society had made them the model and not me and when I walk around without a shirt the sight is not as… pleasant, I guess. They make me feel like shit and I’m sure I’m not the only one. It’s not their fault but the fault of the media that created ridiculous standards to match our ridiculous society.

  The gray cloud moves very slowly, as a lion deciding whether to launch itself towards the wildebeest or wait there for a better catch. Because of the cloud, the climate has gone colder and the sun cannot be felt anymore. I guess that for me the day is over, so I grab my backpack, put my towel inside and stand up. As I put my backpack on, I glance one last time to the see. That big mass of water has so many secrets and no matter how much I stare at it, it won’t reveal any of them. I guess that’s one of the many things that amaze me about coming to the beach and just appreciating the natural aspect of it instead of looking at people.

 I turn around and walk slowly towards the showers, which are located by the sidewalk made of concrete. There I clean my feet and my whole body from many grains of sad that may have taken residence anywhere on my body. I clean my waist by putting my hand just below my bathing trunks and then I see it. Or rather, him. One of the guys playing volleyball hit the ball too hard and sends it close to where I’m standing. The guy that comes to pick it up, instead of taking the ball, has decided to stare at me as I clean myself. Once we have eye contact, he takes the ball and returns to the game. I do not move as quickly. I move aside and dry myself with the towel and, as I do, I look towards the guys.

 He’s the tallest one playing, nice body and very cute smile as they play. Maybe I imagined him looking at me and he was really looking at someone or something else. But maybe not and that possibility is good enough for me. As I end the drying session and put on some thongs, I realize he’s looking my way again. And he decides to wave, saying “goodbye” I guess. I do the same and he smiles and let’s say I can die after having seen that smile. As I walk towards the metro station, I realize it had been a very good day for me. But it hasn’t ended yet as the night might come with more surprises. As I enter the station, the rain starts to pour. I knew I had to leave fast.