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the first time

I had never traveled by train at night. My mother was non-stop weeping at the station -and thank God she never saw the rogues sharing the compartment: two young soldiers from up north, with vicious looks and broad shoulders and a mulatto wearing the tightest jeans ever, and making them bulkier by opening his legs and putting a smile… on his everybody’s face.

Since the train came from afar, they were already eating some greasy burgers that would had made my mother sick. The mulatto licked his lips slowly, slowly, keeping deep eye contact with me. “Bon appetite” I said, and offered some (sandwich I mean) and I said no, thanks, that I had already eaten at home. He asked me why I was traveling to the big city and I said that I was going to study, and he asked me to take my hat off and said I had beautiful hair, and the other two also agreed.

After dinner we all four got comfortable ready to bed when the mulatto asked one of the soldiers to me to change places, so he could sit next to me, and in it took him not even a minute to turn the light off.

“C’mon” he said “let’s take our clothes off that it is Africa-hot in here.”

The other two started to make lots of noise in the dark, with non-stop laughter and shouts. They got me naked in a split of a second and at some point I had no idea who’s arms, hands, legs, lips, tongues were who’s. One thing for sure was what belong to the mulatto. Some time later I learnt that those parties were call orgies. There are not all that bad.

When things settled down (and it took some time until things settled down) I felt asleep almost instantly – l didn’t even bother that combination of sardine-and-meat taste in my mouth. Suddenly I felt the train had stopped; I opened my eyes and took a peak outside: the moon was bright, full, clean, but I didn’t see it up in the sky, I saw it reflected on the water.

I pulled the window down and let my ears adjust to the magnetic noise of the waves. I felt what I thought it was the mulatto’s hand rubbing my thigh.

“Amazing, uh?” he whispered.

I wasn’t able to say a word, and he knew I wan’t able to say a word, so he just hold my hand as I kept steering outside.

I felt like I had born again when that night, for the first time, I saw the ocean.

9 Comments Post a comment
  1. I love how bold you are!

    September 9, 2011
    • he he… thanks, thethethemary – sometimes l even hold back!

      PS: welcome here BTW 😀

      September 12, 2011
  2. Felicitari pentru site. Ati castigat un cititor.

    September 12, 2011
  3. Wow. Speechless. Just wow.

    September 14, 2011
  4. Hahaha…first train ride…intense I’d say…!!!
    Never take the train here though…Oo…they aren’t as “nice”…:P

    September 15, 2011
  5. ay, mamacita – me gusta 😀

    Viva!

    September 17, 2011
  6. Amanda #

    I don’t even know WHY I’m commenting (yea, it’s pretty stupid to start a comment this way) I’m a Graphic design student too, and me and my friends were reading your *50 reasons not to date a graphic designer* and then somehow ended here, (oh love that one!) and though most of my friends go “SHE WHAAATTT?” I just want to say, I get it. I get the freedom of it all. hats off!! (or, a bourbon for you! )

    January 14, 2013

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