#borracha
El recorrido desde el GAM hasta su casa tarda 47 minutos y fracción. Ella iba parada junto a la puerta, con el brazo apoyado en la ventanilla de la micro. El viento acariciaba su piel, mientras el atardecer la coqueteaba a lo lejos. Se sentía bien, feliz. Empezó a gritar con todas sus fuerzas “¡La puerta! ¡La puerta!” y antes de que se detuviese por completo ella ya volaba hacia el puente Condell. Exhausta, tomó el martillo de su cartera y rompió el cerrojo. Llegó tarde a la cita, pero se salvó con un “debía arreglar unos cabos sueltos.“
She steps in the door. She sways. She holds onto the door frame with one hand. She takes a deep breath and waits a moment. The oxygen hits her. Stay calm! Wait a moment! Her legs are wobbly. Everything is turning. She closes her eyes. Her body is still swaying. But she has to go now. She opens her eyes and staggers out onto the sidewalk the sound of her high #heels in her ear. She can no longer walk straight. She stumbles down the sidewalk to the next bus stop. She stands swaying at the stop. Her dress indicates that she comes from work but she comes she doesn’t come from work. She comes from a #cocktail bar. She went there after work and drank cocktails. She doesn’t remember how many cocktails she drank. There must have been a few. Did she pay? The bus is coming. The world is spinning. She ist #drunk.
©PartyingGirls2020
No no no no …uf
Creo que el destino me quiere decir algo
