Badaezpada: Brutal | Short story contest ‘In quarantine’ El Correo-UPV

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No. Manage neither. Neither do you say manage. And notice that managing is, especially now, on the lips of every pichichi, of every son of a neighbor: we have not managed to manage this situation; you have to learn to manage your wrong zones; success is managing failures correctly. As if we all worked in a management agency or were in a fucking congress of property managers.

Neither manage, nor empower, nor backpack, nor the following, nor complicated. It makes me nervous if you shouldn’t carry that backpack or you have to empower yourself. I was about to embark on this adventure with a guy who, one afternoon in the street, gave me resilience. Resilience! As you hear it. Another of the possible candidates ran away… Flipa. That he liked running; that he was running sick. Don’t fuck with me … Imagine yourself morning, noon and night listening to that.

Because the day to day – people don’t know it, the terrible thing is that people don’t know it – is going to break with a simple word. I have had to be very attentive, walk with a hundred eyes: a colleague from the office had many tickets but said cool. Yes, very occasionally but I was continually dreading that moment. Cool. It’s so cool. How cool! Imagine living with someone like that.

For a moment I was afraid you were going to say – I’m so sorry I underestimated you – brutal. But no, you don’t say brutal either; nor with which. If you said a single with which I would not have thought of you; a simple brutal and I would have discarded you.

No, your speech during these crazy weeks has not slipped for a second; how easy it would have been to fall somewhere in the middle of this coronavirus crisis. Anyone, even I, would have said we are living a brutal experience; the figures are brutal …; you have a brutal look.

It’s hard to find a man like that, with that lexical integrity. It will be a luxury, a relief to have someone next to you who says reef but also sweet potato; sevicia but also dust; uncertainty but also freak out.

In short, would you confine yourself to me? I can’t tell you how long. Let’s confine ourselves …!

And don’t tell me to make him look at me. Don’t mess it up, honey. I beg you.

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THESE ARE THE STORIES PUBLISHED TO DATE:

Alboan
The confined walker, Celestina of the streets

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