It was just a disgusting afternoon of that disgusting summer.
It seemed that this day everyone had roasted their complexes, because most men were shirtless and women showed off their legs in short skirts. I passed the tavern of that tiny town and everyone looked at me. Surely most of them do not think anything, this is the life of village people, they just watch people go by while they will spin the straw of their coke.
I waited at the bus stop until it finally appeared in the distance. The driver didn´t see me because he almost bypasses, he only stopped when I sat in the middle of the road. I paid and went straight to the door. I kept listening to music until the bus stopped at the next stop. I did not even realize, I think I had my eyes closed, but the first thing that made me raise my head was that smell. I slowly turned my neck, hoping that it was a mistake. It could not be him, not here, but yes, it was him, and continued as usual. His bright white shoes barely touched the ground while he was walking, their plain jeans so narrow showed his thin legs. He wore a purple short-sleeved polo and a white shirt underneath. I was surprised at the detail that he was not wearing his brand backpack but a bandoleer, but neither that, nor his bracelets, nor his two wooden necklaces mattered after I looked at his eyes. I felt the world disappear under my feet, that people disappeared, and that song of the 80s started to sound, our song. I'm sure he did not realize it was me until he was leaning on the seat next to me, then it was too late, because he looked at me with those big green eyes, and I wished to stop the earthquake that had formed in my head. He swallowed me, he dragged me into the abyss of his eyes enveloping me with that melody that had cost me so much to forget. I tried to speak, but my lips seemed to be on strike, so I just looked at him. It was the longest 12 minutes and fourteen seconds of my life. Finally I went down, before him, and when the bus began to move again I could feel a slight smile coming out of his perfect face, dazzling and golden, like sunlight. It has been a love so fleeting ...
Although it was not really so important. It was just a disgusting afternoon of that disgusting summer.
Lidia Martí, 2n Batxillerat Humanístic.
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