of peace scene- ah!

upstairs.

an adult hispanic customer, whose face was decorated with patches of stubble, is biting his nails non-stop.

an attractive blonde woman is peaking in rapid spanish on the phone that for some strange reason, all i hear are ratatatatatatatatatatas from her mouth.

i initially suspected that she may be the wife of the nail biting guy but judging from her looks i am able to convince myself that she might actually be the mother.

two kids, one girl around 5’9 in height and a small one around 4’ are contributing to the unexpected chaos of the place. playing, giggling and almost screaming at times, the girls are oblivious of the peaceful status quo that they disturbed.

the closest (in proximity and nationality) person to me in the building have this habit of sighing, grunting and whispering rants during the earliest times of the day. he’s so good at it that the force field i specially developed to deflect his negative aura is now almost depleted and worn.

downstairs.

as i fix hundreds of loose pieces of clothes, my mind wanders over the remote countries of the past- betrayal, loneliness and depression. my mind becomes foggy so i seek escape to the cities of sex, computers, pictures and random adventures. it is a lonely cruise but a less painful and tolerable one.

this all happens when a random fragment of a memory involving a car, a freeway, bright lights and suppressed emotions forced its way to my brain.

i am spacing out.

it’s strange how the combined powers of the cigarette smoke of the big sister and the big cousin of the big boss of the place doesn’t bother me at all.

big sister is petite withered woman who wears fashion of the past decades. she speaks in a smooth, gentle way that can make even the tiniest mosquitoes sleep. she may look frail and soft but she’s cunning. she’s the unintentional bully. her body smells of trapped sweat and cigarette smoke and i don’t trust her.

big cousin on the other hand will make you wonder if he swallowed a dolby surround theatre system on his mouth after birth. borrowing powers from his voice, he speaks with the air of authority. he’s pushy. and he will tell you and push you to do whatever he wants without even hearing your side out.

i am counting hundreds of loose pieces of clothes when he approached me and lectured me about the futility of my act (which, by the way was ordered by the big sister), therefore distracting my concentration, making me lose my count.

i almost screamed “go fuck yourself!” to his face to stun the shit out of his conceited mouth.

luckily i was able to restrain myself.

it’s never a good idea to argue under the influence of cloudy memories.

the thought of drowning myself with the bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzing noise of the 10+ years old hoover occurs to me but i will not be able to that since the munchkin lady has already cleaned the place a few days ago.