They were sitting next to each other and both staring the screen of her phone: and now that he got closer to her, he noticed clumps of a yellowish glue at the base of her eyelashes.
Not satisfied of what she had seen, still she closed the mirror door and left the bedroom.
Looking at him, she was not quite sure he’d still think sometimes about the years they spent together.
Her tiny fingertip painted in glossy nail polish, scratched at the top after having pushed his cousin Kevin on the seesaw for the whole afternoon.
“Sit down, have some juice”
The satin shirt of her mother rolled up to the elbows when cutting turkey breast, revealing a modern watch and a tiny butterfly inked on her wrist, dating back to when she was old enough to get drunk, but not enough to get a tattooist working on her without her parents’ consent.
She was struggling to grasp the straw with her mouth only, without making use of her hands.
“A…C…Ace” repeated the kid.
“What’s cool, dear?” joked her mum.
The kid ignored that word she didn’t know, focusing on the sequence of letters she was following with her index on the bottle of juice.
Every other letter. Her face wrinkled in a smile of pride.
That was it!
She could not wait to share that exciting discovery with her mum and her cousin Kevin.
“No, here! Here Bobby, here!”
The young girl was pointing at the bowl in vain, as the dog seemed not to see or smell the juicy beef chunks she had cooked to him with care.
She placed her purse on the hook under the bar; it was her first time in that club and yet she knew where to find it, how to wait for the bartender’s attention, and what to order: a gin tonic – you can never go wrong with that.
She relaxed now that she knew alcohol would not long arrive. She looked around the place: blonde men showing muscles behind tight shirts, ladies suffering the cold in sleeve-less dresses, young kids disguising themselves as adults.
She tried to get that thought back, but it was all too much of something she’d already seen a thousands of times.
He tried to hold on the floor with his nails, but its surface was so polished that he miserably slipped on it. He found himself flat on the floor, a force pulling him from the back prevented him from standing up. He started screaming as loud as he could, but no one around could care.
Why causing me such a big pain?
He turned his head, that little motherfucker laughing, enjoying pulling his tail like nothing else in the world.
Then miraculously, a voice from above:
“Jim, leave the cat alone and come have dinner please”.