THIS IS THE LIFE

This is the life, she thought, while watering the plants in the morning, right before feeling domesticated and bored. She doesn’t get served by the table as often and she cleans after herself almost wherever she goes. Neither holds nobody’s hand as she walks. This space in between us all shows elegance and respect of a sort. We are, oh, so very polite. Casually unattached we celebrate our independence. Social status defined by the amount of plastic served in layers between her fingers and her meal, the things she eats. Stromatolites stripped of their ‘X’ factor, we are better than our very own source of existence, haven’t you heard. Back to the high stool, where she finds herself, now, in this brown pub surprisingly full of plenty of inspiring offers, she sips from her glass. With her fingers she untangles the knots in her hair, the ones she gets since she bathes by the sea, no soap just salt, and seaweeds, and jellyfish. She smells a thread she has just freed, timidly tasting with her tongue, the flavour saltier than the brine seasoning her, now almost finished, elaborated libation. What a delight, she thought. The man seated on the next seat will not talk to her, that much she already knows. He finds himself busy with a new best friend, often glued these days to many people’s ears and brains. A part of her wants to feel sad about this all, yet, another part does not get why she should bother afterall. Instead, she focuses her emotional vacancy infused efforts on the music she hears, first on the background and soon high volume all around, the bartender had noticed her fingertips following the notes, tip-top, tip-top. The seventies rock folk sure knew how to communicate the sensuality condensed up in the air, understood plant-based in a different way. She caresses the surface of the bar, gently, with her hands; a whole lot of love ever did no one any bad, musing over her plants back home, growing strong. This is the life, she thought.

This is the life. Short-story from 12 o’clock-tales and after hours thoughts. The book

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