IN AMSTERDAM

The sun was melting within the waves of the Mediterranean. On the other side I had a glimpse of Malaga Mountains and the moon, I think, was eager to make her appearance.  I was late for the airport but still I turn around to see the wonders of my land. When I look back in time, I think the sky send us some divine signs that we would never ignore.

I found a wallet with money on it- 450€. The woman who had lost it was, apparently, working on the other side of the road. When I arrived to her office, she was walking up and down, yelling at everyone there. She was a tiny brunette with a bad temper. It really struck me the look she gave me when I got into that room. I instantly regretted it the fact that I was no at the airport already.

It took me more than fifteen minutes to make her understand that I was no the guy who was supposed to fix her computers. Around her, nobody dared to say a word. She said that I was a fucking moron. Eventually I showed her wallet with all the money, her money, on it. She hardly apologised for her behaviour and I headed for the airport. That was the first sign that Amsterdam was not a good choice.

I bought a small package of cookies and, waited to board in a flight to Amsterdam. Suddenly a woman approached me to sit by my side. She was on her thirties, blonde and I had to admit it, very attractive. I opened it and I took a cookie. She did the same. I did not mind because, as you can imagine, she was very hot.

I focused on my book written by Josep Pla- one of my favourite authors- I love his literary style, his simplicity, irony and clarity. The author was extremely modest and sensitive to ridicule, detested artifice and empty rhetoric.  Hi necessity of a clear, precise, and restrained writing and his lack of interest in literary fiction. The blonde lady had her needs too; to eat all my cookies. Finally, there was only one left. So I cut it in two pieces and gave one to her. We heard the boarding call and there I went. All of a sudden, the blonde lady stood by my side to yell at me. It was the second time in a day. I could not believe it. She claimed that the small package of cookies were hers. I stood there in silence, feeling thousands of eyes staring at me. I had my passport and the boarding pass in my right hand.

-Spig, it was so rude of you to eat my cookies. ¡you bastard!

In that precise moment, she opened her bag realising that her small package of cookies was still there. She blushed. That was the second sign: God, with his great wisdom, was telling me; stay where you are. Don’t go to Amsterdam. But I did no pay much attention to any of that. Instead, I ignored the poor excuses of the blond lady and I boarded that plane.

Amsterdam was at the same place when I left the very last time. It was raining and nobody was waiting for me at the airport. Nobody gave a warming smile there. I went to my hotel and stayed there. She never called and talking about calling, the company I was supposed to work for, called off the offer. The hardest thing was when she replied “How I am going to fall in love, when I can’t even fall asleep. I was the only one who fell… in the trap. ¡AGAIN!

Sergio Calle Llorens