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   Kate had never worked in her life and it appeared as if she wasn’t going to work ever. She had graduated from college five years ago and she was still not able to find a proper job. She had sent her CV to every possible company that would be willing to hire someone with her profile but that was no good. She tried both with state-owned companies and with private ones. She talked to people she hadn’t talked in years and was even so desperate with it all that she had tried to be considered for posts in several fast food chains and retail stores. None of that had worked.

 She had literature and was only finding out now how difficult and competitive the world was. She never dreamt of someone hiring her just after finishing school but she had always thought people with a higher degree of education had a little more chance to be hired faster. That wasn’t her case at all. In those five years she had even decided to study a little more and left the country for a year in order to get her writing improved and to learn new things to make her skills much more interesting. But time passed and no one noticed.

 Stress was really winning for most of the time. On the social networks, Kate saw how many of her friends where even getting married and she hadn’t even earned her first paycheck. Some of them bragged about their complicated lives as doctors or architects or accountants. True, their life didn’t seem extremely interesting but at least they were doing what people were expected to do at that age. People were even expected to have children before thirty and Kate was rapidly nearing that number.

 Her older brother had already left home, living now with his eternal girlfriend, who would obviously turn into her wife in the years to come. He had chosen to be an engineer and was always working. He travelled a lot because of his work and seemed stressed sometimes but then he also hung out a lot with his friends and girlfriend so it all seemed ok. Besides he had his own place, or this be more exact, he paid the rent of his own place which gave him an incredible level of independence and Kate envied that.

 During the last year, she had begun writing several types of pieces, but did so in her own space. She had tried selling some of the articles to magazines but apparently they were more comfortable with people they already knew. So she did all by herself and was thrilled to see that a few people, not that many but still, had begun reading her. There were not many comments, but the few that she received were good. People that read was she had to say specially liked the short stories although some others, mainly women, were very interested on her articles about beauty and related subjects. She was proud of that, as she had never thought people would read her but still no one was paying her for it.

 The thing was, and most people out of college would agree, there is an urgency to do a certain amounts of things as you turn into “an adult”. First of all, just like the song says, it’s all about the money. There’s a feeling of failure when you haven’t transformed any talent that you have in physical prize for it. And, let’s face it; money is the oil of the engine that is the world. Without money there is not much that you can do in life, unless your goal is to be hippie. And people look at you weird when you are a certain age and you haven’t achieved that part of the goal, even more when people in the family have been working since they were teenagers.

 And then there’s the feeling of achievement, of having gotten somewhere with what supposedly made you special. Kate had always felt, for one that she was very skilled at telling the best fantastical stories ever. One thing that she loved was visiting one of her cousins and just make stories for her right on the spot. Kate didn’t tell her about princesses or things like that but about space battles and fantastical creatures and more realistic worlds but settled in the weirdest environments. It was fun for her and her cousin loved the stories, always asking her for others or for the “sequels” of some of the ones she had told her before.

 One day, Kate decided staying home was the worst she can do. She had decided to stop sending her CV everywhere and just think everything through. She felt she was aiming her bullets all over the place, without ever hitting anything or not even knowing what she was aiming for. That had to be changed urgently because she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown and she didn’t want to add a clinical state to her slate of mental issued. It would be too much for her.

 So Kate took a walk. She decided to go to one of those neighborhoods filled only with houses and where people rarely walk around or anything. It was located on a hill, not that far from her home, so the walk was really difficult at times but the beautiful old houses that had stood there for many decades compensated it. She saw some of them hosting cafés, some others were small libraries and some more were dancing academies or were simply abandoned. She imagined various stories for the people she saw through the windows, the signs and the names.

 She finally arrived to a small park, located on the edge of a cliff overlooking the city. She had no idea that park was there and it was beautiful. The day was bright and almost cloudless so the city could be seen for kilometers in various directions. No people or cars could be seen though, only the trees, the buildings and, farther, the airport. She sat down on one of the benches and imagined so many stories she regretted not having a notepad or something to write on. She then remembered phones were more advanced now so she took it out and made small audio fragments, each one with a different idea. It was weird talking alone to a phone without anyone hearing it but she was glad the ideas wouldn’t be forever lost.

 Suddenly she felt someone close and turned around in middle sentence as she saw a guy about her age feeding the pigeons. He had thrown some breadcrumbs on the small patch of grass of the park but also kept some in his hands, where the pigeons would come to feed themselves. Kate looked closely at the guy and realized he was wearing an overall. Maybe he was in construction or something related. But he didn’t have plaster or white paint stains. He rather had small stains of several colors and she even noticed he had some on his neck.

 He then noticed her and smiled. Kate turned red fast and tried to turn around but the guy talked to her. She asked her that he had always loved the view from there, since he was a kid. She then asked him if he lived there and he answered that he had lived there since birth. He still lived in his parent’s home, not very far from there. He got closer and sat down next to Kate, followed by some pigeons that thought he had more breadcrumbs but soon became disappointed.

 They then had a very nice chat about the view, about what each of them did and what they liked. The boy’s name happened to be Julian and he was an artist, or so he said at least. She told her he had gone to France to study but he had left the career before finishing it. He had decided that painting was not something that needed a degree and he also realized he hadn’t had any money to go on living as if his parents were not struggling to get him through college. So he came back and was very happy with his decision.

 He invited Kate to his studio, to see his paintings, as she was openly skeptical that he was an actual artist. Realizing she should be a little more adventurous, she accepted the invitation. They had only walked a couple of blocks when he opened the gate of one of those old houses and let her in. They entered the house and then went down to what would be the parking area but there was no car. He turned on the lights and, effectively, there was a studio right there. Most canvases were in the ground against the walls but a couple of them were on easels and she thought they were great.

 One of the paintings was a scenery, possibly the city from the hill, and the other one seemed to be a human face but it was difficult to see what kind of person that was. Anyway, she liked the drawings and asked her if she sold them. He told her that he had just sold his first in a flea market, just because he had dare to go to one and just pay for one of the spaces for a day. It was all the money he had but he recuperated it with the selling of the painting, which was a nude male.

 Then, Kate’s phone began to ring. It was her mom asking her where she was, as she had promised to join her to go to the supermarket. She told her she would be there in half an hour and hung up before her mother could say anything.

 Julian joined her to the gate and told her to come any time she wanted. He realized she was just as free as him and that she appreciated things like his paintings. Besides, he confessed, he had heard her talking to her phone, summing up the ideas she was having by looking to the cliff. Then, unexpectedly, he put one hand in one of her shoulders and told her not to worry about anything. Artists had to create and find themselves before bringing people into their worlds. It was just a matter of time and patience.

 All the way home, Kate had a big smile on her face.

The places in my pain

This is a dream. This is not real. None of this is. Not his smile, not him in any way. Not this place, maybe not even me. I know why I'm here, I remember...

When it started, I found myself laying on a bed, watching the sunrise through a large window, with no blinds or curtains to stop light from entering. It was truly beautiful sight, like no other I had ever seen. But then... Yeah.  I had actually seen something like this before. On a trip with my parents when I was younger. I think we had been camping on a forest and then the sun appeared behind the mountains. My dad had awoken everyone to see it. Why was I dreaming about it?

This dream... It felt strange. I could actually control what I was doing, not merely witnessing things. I stood up from that bed and walked towards the window. It was impossible not to gasp when seeing what was beyond the window: a cliff.

The place were I was, a house I thought, had been built overlooking a deep cliff, with the ocean at the bottom and several pointy rocks. What did that mean? I was sure it meant something. After all, it was a dream.

Then I realized I was wearing a shirt, a blue one. I had never worn one, as office work made me crazy. Then again, no office had considered hiring me so... I was also wearing white socks and that was it. For the first time in the dream, I was scared: what if this was a nightmare? Maybe something I disliked or hated would step in anytime.

I entered the bathroom and realized there was no shower, bath or sink. The door opened to the outside of the house. And I wasn't wearing a shirt and socks anymore, but a sleek black suit with a tie. I had always hated this kind of clothes. How weird...

As I walked on the grass outside, I realized the house slowly fell into the abyss, in silence. It was like seeing someone die or being born, slow paced and beautiful, in a very strange way.

Beyond the grass there was a forest and, somehow, I knew I needed to go there. So I walked. The tie felt looser and so did the shoes as I crossed the grassy fields and neared the forest. When the eucalyptus smell filled the air, I found myself stark naked. I looked for the suit behind me, but there was nothing there, just grass.

"Who cares", I thought. Clothes come and go apparently. What was important now was to keep going and see what all of this was about. As I penetrated the thick forest, stepping on branches and logs, I thought the forest was a very clear memory I had stored for years.

Near my grandparents house there was a park, not that big, but with very tal eucalyptus trees. Those kind of trees were not indigenous to the country and you could feel it in the air and in the soil. They would take me and my sister to that park. And we would play for hours on the benches, on a sand box, and all over the playground someone had put there to make children happy. And it did. We would eat ice cream after that or something sweet and then go back to the house. My grandparents where exceptional people but they never had too much to spare.

That forest in the dream was the park I had played in, replicated thousands of times by my mind. I didn't see them or my sister there, however. The place was silent and there was no one living there except me. Nevertheless, I was still nervous because the dream appeared to be taking a lot of time to end.

After a long walk, I finally arrived to the shores of a lake, that appeared to have the shape of a raindrop. I didn't thought much of it. I just walked towards the water and smiled when realizing it was warm. So nice and cozy, like a bed. So I decided to get all in and dive. My whole body felt warm, so I closed my eyes and let the current take me wherever she wanted.

When I opened my eyes, I was laying again but not on a bed but in a sleeping bag. How odd... After that one time with my family, I had decided never to camp again and there I was again, all cozied up in a sleeping bag. I would have stayed there if it hadn't been for the sound. Finally, my dream had sound. And outside, something or someone was moving so I got up and stepped out.

This time, I was wearing boots, a jacket, thermal pants, gloves and a cap. I only gave a few steps before realizing were I was: a high mountain, another lake very near. There was snow all around and, very far, I could see more mountains and no people. Except one.

There he was. I didn't know this place, or that person, but I ran towards him. He was happy to see me up and starting telling me about the birds he had seen since he had woken up. I heard all of what he had to say, very patiently, calmly. And, to my surprise, I could understand and answer very naturally. We hugged and kissed and laughed and then we had breakfast together. I don't remember having such a good time with anyone, not in a dream or in reality.

This place and that man... I had no idea who he was or where I was but I frankly didn't care. I felt safe. Not like before when I thought that might be a nightmare in disguise. Now I felt nothing could be better and I prayed, in my head, for it not to end soon.

As he put up the fire, I got the cooler where we had brought the eggs and ham, tomatoes and a white onion. And chopped it all as he got the fire started. I found myself looking at him for a long time. He would just smile and keep doing his thing. It felt so strange, so unnatural in a way. I felt great but I knew I had no idea who he really was.

We put it all in a pan, tomatoes, onion and ham and then four eggs and mixed it all. We would share all of it. He told me he was hungry and then kissed me and it felt great. But I couldn't stop thinking: do we really know each other? I s my brain creating this person out of nothing or have I actually met this face?

When we started eating, I didn't care. He just smiled and laughed and made me laugh. He was such a happy person and I felt a bit guilty because I knew the dream would end soon and then we might never see each other again.

After breakfast, we got in the tent and kissed, a lot. I didn't felt the outside cold anymore. I just felt his warmth and that was all I need. His hands and lips felt so real, as if I was really there with him, feeling his hair and breath near my skin. That smile... I would never forget his smile.

But then, it all vanished and I opened my eyes. As soon as I woke up, the sudden urge for vomiting was uncontrollable so I just did there, in my bed. It wasn't long until some nurse came in and cleaned my face and changed my pillow.

The pain was strong, my throat was sore and it felt as if my head had been use as a rattle. I couldn't get back to sleep so I just cried my heart out waiting for everything to end once and for all. That was the only way I could get him back, him and my peace.

The Gardens of Versailles

Windy and chilly. A typical parisian winter, or at least that's how it is at the beginning.

Today, Paul has got on a train to visit one of the most spectacular places in the world: the chateau de Versailles. A beautiful palace where the King once lived and the infamous Marie Antoinette lived her life, isolated from the rest of the people.

That's how you fell, after you've seen the museum and you start wandering through courtyards and gardens: you feel alone in the world, even if there are hundreds of tourists around

What Paul didn't expect was running into an old school mate. No, they were not friends. Far from that: they despised each other. Jonah was always the athletic jock, not that beautiful to be honest but always life of the party and center of attention. Paul was just the opposite.

Jonah was buying a sandwich from a lady in al old kiosk and then he saw Paul. And Paul saw him. It was one of those moments when time freezes because you don't really know how to react. It was too late to fake not seeing the other man and too strange of a situation to say anything.

It was Paul that came closer and bought a hot beverage from the same lady. It has to be said that he had being trying to change his elusive and shy self in order to be more assertive and spontaneous. So, when he saw Jonah, what would be more spontaneous than just greeting him, as if he was better than all that had happened in school.

To be honest, only discomfort happened. There were never awful jokes or nasty discrimination: it wasn't a movie high school or an american one for that matter. They just disliked each other and that was it.

Anyway, Paul greeted Jonah and Jonah responded. They asked for their respective lives: Paul was in Paris in a holiday. He lived in Berlin, working in a restaurant as an apprentice of the main chef. He had always loved food. On the other hand, Jonah lived in London and was working in a big advertising company.

They fake smiled and had small talk, walking along the path that lead to the Grand Trianon. They ate and drank their respective foods.

 - Did you come here by yourself? - said Jonah.
 - Yeah. You?

Jonah nodded. Paul didn't know but Jonah had a nervous crisis a year earlier. He had being in a relationship with a girl from school and realized he was bored to death by her. They had come together because of their "status" in life but that faded fast when they moved to London.
The separation broke Jonah as he didn't know where he stood. With difficulty and thanks to some friends and his work, he seemed to come back to life.

But he didn't say this to Paul. Only that he always wanted to visit the palace and see its grandeur at least once. Paul agreed: it was a personal dream of his to visit Paris, a well regarded place for food, and specially to walk through places so charged with history and beauty as these gardens.

After watching the furnitures and art inside the Trianon, they walked through the village created by Marie Antoinette to recreate a fairytale town, with animals and beautiful houses and even a pond.

There, Paul told the truth: he had suffered to much when caring for people and keeping the truth hidden, about his feelings and thoughts. So about six months ago he had decided he would change that and try to be more open and bold.

Jonah was curious.

 - Like what would you say then?
 - I had a crush on you in high school. I thought you were so perfect. I knew I could never be like you. It was weird.

And the Jonah kept asking why and how and when and Paul answered every questions as they fed some bread to the ducks and walked through narrow paths.

 They walked closely but never too close. They didn't say a word for several minutes as they walked to the front gate.

 - Would you take a drink with me? - asked Jonah.

Paul was confused. He hadn't had the intention of making Jonah feel bad or obliged somehow by his story. He expressed this to him as they neared Versailles-Rive Gauche train station.

 - It's not that... I'm just here 'till January 2nd and it would be nice to see the city with someone else. Don't you think so?

He certainly had a good point.

 - Ok. You're right. I was planning on scouting the left bank neighborhoods tomorrow.
 - That's great. But first a drink.

An hour later they were drinking wine in small bar were they chatted for several hours. So many hours that the owner had to ask them to leave as he had to close the establishment.

A bit drunk and all talkative, Jonah confessed to Paul he was glad to find him in Versailles. Paul only thanked him and abruptly changed the subject, a little bit annoyed to feel good about revisiting his past.

Paul invited Jonah to his hotel were they ate bread and jam and two more bottles of wine.

It wasn't strange when, after two bottles and only a few hours until sunrise, Paul kissed Jonah and the former jock stood still. Paul was ashamed and Jonah was speechless. He decided to grab his coat and leave.

Paul barely slept, all alcoholic intoxication lifting from his body by the thought of his mistake. He had gone to far and he had to learn from it. So much for the walk around the Rive Gauche.

After lunch time, he decide that walking would be better than staying at home. As he put on his coat, the phone rang. It was the front desk lady stating someone was waiting for him downstairs.

Indeed, waiting by the travel brochures, there was Jonah.

 - We should visit Montparnasse Tower. They say the view is great.

And there they went. The day was gray and gloomy but it went perfect as they slowly became friends. No mention was made of the kiss, not once all day.

But the truth is that when they parted in the airport days later, Jonah eyes were watery and Paul had memorized Jonah's scent. They shook hands, as if they had always being great friends and then went on with their lives, each one changed a bit by a casual and random encounter in a place full of magic.