The Electric Electra

I saw her name in my dreams and then I met her for real.

“You can call me Electra. My real name is boring and I don’t wanna be that way… not anymore”. Straightforward woman. Very interesting.

Sparkly eyes. Shining red head. Awful very old fashioned clothes.

“My name is…”, but she made me stop. “I don’t need to know what I already know”, she said. “Please, continue as if we have never met, ’cause as a matter of fact it doesn’t matter that we have met today or any other day. We will never be face to face again”.

She was right. And then I realized that life is full of occasional meetings. Some of them lead us to nowhere in particular. But then we have the meetings also known as ‘wake up calls’.

Electra was a wake up call.
The very next day, I was murder by a red headed vixen with the most sparkly eyes I will ever see in my life. Cause after all, she hit me ten times with a dagger and all I could say to the paramedics was a word of seven letters that would end my days forever: Electra.

Keep it Casual

He’s been staring at the window for 20 minutes. Nice restaurant, nice clothes, clean shoes. No signs of her. 10 more minutes passed by and he’s still waiting. She’s half hour late and he’s starving to death.

 They only met once, but that was enough. She’s hot as hell, and he’s been very lonely lately so he agreed on a casual date. ‘Cause that’s what he’s looking right now: casual. But it seems casual is not going to happen.

 Whatever. He’s not here for  a lazy woman.  Time to go home where’s a comfy sofa and casual coffee. Very hot and casual.

 As he steps out of the restaurant, his cell phone starts ringing. Better not be about job. Or maybe it would be good.

- Hello?

- Josh? Where are you?

- Well, I just left the place, Joyce. She never showed up and I’m tired, so I’m going straight home.

- No, Josh, you can’t. Listen to me. She had an accident. I’m on my way to the hospital as we speak.

- But what… what happened?

- I’m not sure, but it was bad. Pretty bad.

- Ok, tell me where the hospital is.

 In this-is-the-shittiest-shit-street-ever lane. It was the lousiest and most depressing place ever. Sick people everywhere. Injured people everywhere and no hot chick. Also no Joyce. Josh was standing there looking for, well no one, ’cause he didn’t know the name of the woman she was about to met.

 But the meeting occurred and in the most horrifying way ever: she came in a wheelchair with broken hip, arm and black eye.

 - Damn! What happened to you?

- Oh, it was nothing. My ex boyfriend found out that I was going on a date so he beat the crap out of me.

- Really? Wait…. Boyfriend?

-  Ex boyfriend. He’s like really possessive and jealous and…

- And a prick!

- Well, I wouldn’t say that…

- He beat you, woman! He’s a prick!

- And…

- And what?

- And he’s behind you.

The First Mistake

Suddenly all lights go out. You’re alone in the dark. What can be more scary?
“Hello? Is anybody there?”, is the first thing that comes out of your mouth. That’s it. The first mistake when you are alone: you make clear that you don’t know if someone is there with you. They got you and you’re trapped in this world when everybody know… everyone but you.

Back to Lost Angeles, Part II or Found!

No quería pero lo hice.
Desperté a un día peor que los anteriores. Al parecer el planeta está furioso y nos manda un frío invierno a la mitad del verano. Tremenda suerte, ¿no?

Back to Lost Angeles, Part I or Lost!

Cuando abro los ojos me encuentro con esta muchedumbre, me toma del brazo y me arroja contra tres montones de hojas que al chocar conmigo se desparraman por todos y ningún lado. Qué carajo. No sé qué está sucediendo.