dimecres, 3 d’agost de 2011

From Hollywood

His first memory is so clear. He’s in a subway station on 42nd street. He takes a look at his watch: 2.15 pm. The train stops, doors open and she gets out. Just for a while, absolute silence. And then, out of nowhere, the first chords of Van Morrison’s Someone like you. The voice of the Irish singer fills the station and everything seems to be moving in slow motion. He watches her, blatantly, pleased, speechless. The train leaves the station, though he, standing still in the middle of the platform, hardly notices. Her steps are charming, her smooth movements guide his look. And at that very same moment, as she’s walking towards the stairs, she turns and stares at him, intently. Her gaze is deep, as an everlasting sea that invites him to get lost in. There's no hesitating. He catches her as she’s half her way up the stairs. They talk. She's not in a hurry. He doesn’t even think about it. They sit along in a cafe in Lexington Avenue. Hours go by till the bartender tells them it’s closing time. They kiss goodbye. Tomorrow they’ll meet again.

Days go by. Date after date they share breakfasts, lunches, dinners. Bryant Park hosts their caresses, streets become the best allies to some never ending conversations, a tourist-free Empire State shows them reddish sunsets... One day, sitting on the balcony of his apartment, he suggests moving together, far away from a stressing city he just doesn’t understand. She hesitates. She enjoys her job, she loves the city. She cries. From the background, Thunder road brings the voice of a passionate, romantic, exuberant Springsteen. She doesn't want to lose him, but she knows she can't follow him. They embrace. He tenderly kisses her on her forehead. She gets up and leaves. Before closing the door, a glimpse, maybe the last. From his window he sees her getting on the car. She makes her way up the Avenue and he watches her until the taillights disappear behind the corner.

Countryside is not as he had figured it out. Well, maybe it is: it's how he had imagined it before meeting her. But now, without her, nothing is the same color. Hours are long, work is heavy, nights are empty. From time to time he calls her number, but hangs the phone on hearing her voice. And then one day, as if he had had a revelation, he leaves everything behind and takes his way back to the city. No hesitation. With a bag on his shoulder and a special gleam in his eyes, he knocks on her door. "Who's there?", she asks from within. "It’s us," he tenderly answers. The door opens, she stares at him for a while and, unable to withstand their feelings, they fall on each other arms as the voice of Mark Knopfler whispers a sweet True love will never fade. Then, movie credits slowly begin to emerge before them and, in a thoughtful mood, he deeply wishes their story is at least a trilogy and it doesn't end up like this.

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