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.
Sergio Calle Llorens
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