enim non erubescit
Epistola (A letter does not blush)
Cicero
In 1972 José Emilio Pacheco published La fiesta brava , perhaps the first story in the metro in Mexico City appears. Three paragraphs before the end of the story, Pacheco writes: "It was hot in the tunnel. I suddenly bathed the air displaced by the convoy that stopped noiselessly. Rose, made the change again Balderas and sat in an individual bank. " If Pacheco had written "suddenly the displaced air bathed ..." these lines have worked, by themselves, as an alien and accurate introduction to what I'm writing. "Coincidences in life are almost never perfect," said Héctor Abad Faciolince any page.
Rather than delay, what worried me was the possibility of not finding anyone. Like every Friday, a group of friends and I met had more than a month of not seeing them (my free time has become more than I have no recourse and the worst manage). Usually these meetings are brief, so that nine of night began to mean the end of the meeting. At best, aspired to go to say hello.
The fastest way to get it underground, where he comes from the humanism of squeezing and given the miracle of accommodation, according Monsivais. I took one in line to get out in Juanacatlán Candelaria.
In Balderas up a young as 26 years and sat precisely individual on a bench in front of my profile. I tried to read, but the tension of the wrong things complicated. Cuauhtemoc arrived when my traveling companion took my hand that held the book.
- I can make you a question? "He said.
In a society like today, in which the boom twitter and Facebook have made us to come to those who have far and we move away from those around them, his boldness seemed almost abnormal. I accepted the offer which annulled pamper themselves and gave me a gray cartonboard little card with some manuscript.
- Can you read and tell me what you think? Do you think that sounds very blazed?
As an adjective of this kind can rarely be given to a street or a course, I knew before seeing that it was not an address.
"Tell me if something does not understand," he supplemented.
I began to read: "if I thought that with the power of the mind you could call, and I had, my feeble mind xth is and stop thinking you can not. " Asked about the x to zero power and explained that its absolute value was but . No doubt the contents of the card was a symptom of a crisis loving fresh and current. Continued: "Wanders and Debray in the distance to be able to have you as it was, or ever was." The metric of the prose was not so bad. The text continued and ended with a line on the opposite side of cardboard: "... today I find myself without the possibility, but with the desire to reinvent from scratch, without you, without the warmth of your memory." Platitudes, poetic prose, intensity. The degree of kitsch and her silence evidenced the seriousness of the matter.
I assumed that I was at a party in a tragic love shine.
"I do not sound like blazed," I said. Rather, it almost sounds like a plea. If you say that because he blazed past X or Y position-again-algebra language you want this person something negative.
I looked out the window to see which station we were going.
- Here low? - Asked.
was Chapultepec. I shook my head.
"Come on, tell me, sorry to insist, stumbled in his words, if this was for you, what would you think?
I stayed silent for a while. Empathy exercises have never been my forte.
"I think I would grow. "I tried to feed my ego. In the best case you want to interpret return.
"And that's just what I do not want.
She exhaled, a gesture to see f Racas what seemed like a good idea.
We reached Juanacatlán.
"Here under," he said, "but if you want to continue talking.
was with me on the platform. I was surprised that my makeshift work Visitor give results good enough to make me follow a stranger. Then I noticed that even brought the card with me. I also noticed that she was thin and had large, clear eyes, wearing jeans and a strapless blouse that showed the freckles on his shoulders.
"We have not shabby," she confessed. In fact, in a while I see him and give him the news. I wanted to give this as a last gift. I love him, but I want more to me. There are many things I like about him and I know not change. I have a long way yet, I'll think of something better on the road.
I explained for about fifteen minutes that the decision had been taking a long time and now was final, unable to turn back, despite the virtues of another. I reread the card. I was wrong: all I said was synthesized in 17 lines you just typed. Under the real connotation of the text, but just as cheesy, changed meaning and it did seem a farewell. I wanted to amend my error:
- Why do not you give it?, To the best and get the result you want.
I returned the card and showing the palm of your hand, rejected it.
-Keep it. If I take her, handing finish. I prefer to write something more simple.
I put the card between the pages of my book.
"Sorry," he said, "I know it's rare that a stranger approaches you and more to ask such things, but, you know, maybe you're the last man to speak before see him. And as everyone cut from the same cloth, I wanted to know a prior opinion.
exaggerated a gesture to the latter term and she tried to correct with little success. I changed the topic of surprise commenting steady state in which one falls when it comes to Mexico and that his attitude was part of it. We were on hand.
was the sound of the train approaching the platform. "Well, I'm going," he said. She hugged me, kissed me on the cheek and left.
I left the subway station and arrive at home with further delays expected. Gude called to ask if they were still there. The response was positive.
"And friends always go. / Son passengers on platforms." Like the lines on gray cardboard, I discovered a new meaning to these verses of Pacheco.
Gibran Dominguez
April 2011
