First (&story of Pedro)

No rules, no nothing.

I can write what ever comes to my mind. I can even write things that never come to my mind. I can write. I can choose not to write anything. I can pick and choose what to write. I can write the truth, and I can write fiction. I can write a soup of words. I can write in numbers. One-Two-Three. Here I go. I will WRITE.



***

It was dark. Mid Brazil, middle of the night. The poor old man was lost, and had no way of turning back. It was back then when there were no technologies on the go. The most recent thing was the first radio, and only the rich ones were wealthy enough to own one. The man had decided to surprise his wife by showing up at her door steps. He had been proclaimed missing for the last ten years. And even though for the past few years he had been embracing a whole new life, now he really was lost. To make him more miserable, he had no loved ones that would go searching for him here right now. He couldn't believe what was happening. More than anything he just wished there was a way out. He wished that he could catch a gold fish, or a mermaid, or maybe pull a Genie out of an old bottle that was lying in the moss. He regretted even thinking of this, but he wished that he hadn't come here today. He was not prepared for this. For a while he speculated that maybe this is some TV show to make fun at people for getting lost so easily. He had been living in this area before he had gone missing. However, he couldn't recognise anything. He felt like he had never been there before.
Had he been there?

He grew up in the city of Sao Paulo, one of the best known cities in the country. When he met his wife at a job conference in Porto Alegre he knew that this woman was special. He and his wife were both teachers. He thought history, while she thought Portuguese. He had noticed her at a meeting; she had long, wild hair and eyes in the colour of the devil. He loved her deep, dark eyes. Later that day at a informal party he had asked her for a dance, but she refused claiming that she was at the event with a partner. He kept looking at her all night long, wishing he could have just that one dance. It seemed odd to the man, she was alone all night. Pedro, let's say that was his name, never saw anyone else walk up to the young gal. He knew nothing about her, but he felt like all his senses were going mad for just this one human being. Could one really go mad for one person?

The conference was not over yet. It would go on for another two days, so Pedro hoped that he'd have at least one more chance to meet this woman. That night he saw her in his dream. They were at a vineyard picking grapes for that seasons vine. It was to be the best in many years, claimed the owner of the vineyard. This was due to the perfect amount of sunlight the fruit had gotten this year. Other years there had been either too many clouds covering the sun, or there had been terrible droughts. In the dream, he avoided touching her, somehow it had seemed like a sin, to touch her. He watched her pick the ripe berries and pop some of them in her mouth. How he wished he could kiss those satin lips.

The next morning Pedro woke up with an unbearable head ache. Every pore of his body hurt. He though someone had drugged him, or maybe he just had too much vine in the previous evening. He was not sure of what had happened; it didn't matter. He would keep moving for the hope to see his mystery girl again.


***
tbc (maybe)  :D