- Looking at the cobwebs on the ceiling stained green with indecipherable shapes, I counted about three hundred and sixty-five times I had seen those bottles of whiskey on the floor, so far this year.

 He opened his nose.

 - what is that bad smell? mold ? - raising the curious nose to the ceiling without rapier.

 - They're still there, the spiders.

 Instinctively, my nose went down to my armpits, which I smelled, reaching a terrible conclusion: it's me, and I'm taking a bath in the river! - trying to sit my body, like every morning.

 -     I do not get! Will I be that drunk? I don't think so, I've only had one bottle! - wanting to raise the head

 It did not rise.

 - My head is spinning like a top, and I think I'm going to fall! - holding on to the back of that shadowed donkey-colored sofa, which was missing a leg - the same one replaced by two bricks.

 Like an ownerless dog, my head barked at every turn.

 - Better look for an aspirin to calm this pain in the head that sometimes goes to the chest, and I can't even think of the reason. I must be really sick ...

 However, and not for lack of desire, try to open your eyes.

 -    A.


 Not enough three times.

 -I weigh a ton! How can i open them? I can not ! I do not get ! - stretching my hand towards the coffee table in search of the aforementioned aspirin, rattling the springs of that disjointed sofa - where I supported all the weight of my fifty-eight years of life that I had never seen.

 At that very moment, a small tingling settled on my hand, of little size but of great impact on my sensitivity, which could barely identify its

 thin legs and trained to walk lightly.

 it would?

 Without an answer, I immediately opened my eyes.

 - a-ha! My old friend, the whiskey blonde cockroach! Come with daddy, dear - offering my sticky dirty hand to get on, like every day,

 Meanwhile, the light coming through the window stung my delicate black eyes.

 Putting my long-time friend next to me on the couch, I covered my eyes with my free hand now - and she, of course, shot to the floor, where her classmates were getting drunk with whiskey drops on the floor.

 Still spilled on the couch, I wanted to sit my body, this time.

 And I fell seated, over and over again.

 He could not do such a simple thing.

 it's not possible ! - I exclaimed, tortured by reality to crush my alcoholic pride like me.

 - I'm a complete failure! - I said to myself, with tears in my eyes and blows on my chest, with the expectation crawling on the floor of the disappointment that I felt of myself, feeling worse than a cockroach!

 Yes, I felt worse than my friend, the one who can be stepped on at the least expected moment.

 Would I go on like this, sinking into the dead end of degeneration or would I take the courage to get out of the well once and for all?

 - I don't want to die yet - I said, closing my eyes one more time, but this time, I closed them to take a deep breath, three times, looking at the bottles through which my tongue dripped with desire, unfulfilled.

 - I can't go on living like this anymore! - He concluded, taking the eye to me

 desk, crammed with papers, a blunt razor, soda glasses, plates of half-eaten food.

 The eyes followed the same route each day, walking on the carpet that housed papers and secular waste, hiding the four-tailed rats that ignored me.

 Then he climbed each brick on the side wall, traversing

 - that flowered curtain, which looked more like a bath towel hiding a smelly straw mattress, where an animal sleeps.

 I am not an animal, I am a human being, still - rolling my eyes around the office, my ca - and for that very reason, I deserve something better, for all the years that I take care of this battalion as if it were mine, in the booth , day and night.

 Still smelling of alcohol and very listless, I could barely whisper the name of the soldier on duty, who was sitting in the booth outside, with a bottle in his hand.

 - Limbert! - and after five seconds a short, skinny and black soldier who looked like me, entered the room

 -     soldier ! He brings a box from the warehouse.

 In less than a literal minute, the he appeared, with the military salute in one hand, and a deposit box in the other, dragging the box towards the say door ..

 -    Thanks. Give me the box.

 And the soldier handed me the box, the one I wanted to open with the knife he had on his desk.

 And when I finished getting the glues out of the box, I checked it by hand, and I realized that the box was not empty.

 -     what is this? notebook? - and I grabbed it, first removing the accumulated dust “for three or four years !.

 I started flipping through it.

 -What is this notebook about? - even without realizing the origin or service of said notebook.

 He passed through the pages of that booklet with the curiosity of a dog's snout, which wants to know everything, seeks everything.

 Then on the first page, I saw that there were letters and numbers.

 Curiosity made me want to figure it out.

 - C ... chorus ... colonel! Colonel?

 -    wait a minute! This little notebook has the telephone numbers of the main military and civil authorities of this country - leafing through it with eyes that opened more or less according to the names in alphabetical order and impeccably written, with Palmer calligraphy on sheet paper

 - It's a whole list of influential people from the political and economic world, including ministers and presidents! - I exclaimed without containing the joy that invaded me at that moment.

 With a contact list like that, the idea came to me that I could get some financial and even political benefit from it.

 I came up with ideas of extortion, kidnapping, blackmail and a whole underworld of procedures.

 - finally ! I'm going to go down in history with this notebook - I concluded, with the taste of retaliation on my lips.

 On second thought, I think it would not be a bad thing to get in touch with them again. But ... with what name? Let me see - looking for a name on its lid or lining "like the ancients did"

 - I hear many voices in the garage, but first, I will satisfy my curiosity.

 So, I grabbed the phone that was on the desk and started calling the first name on the first page of the booklet (the one with the little star next to it! I imagine it must be important. That's where I start) as soon as I glanced at the time! On that old cuckoo clock hanging on the wall:

 And I kept trying:

 -    Nobody answers. It should no longer be the number - and I crossed it out.

 And so I was repeating the calls.

 Until a number without a star next to it, answered

 - The Officer speaks

 - Officer! It's an honor to speak with you again! How can I help you this time? , (I don't think so! There was no star next to it)

 The military man fell silent, (what do I say now?)

 - Yes, a treat.

 -     he has a cold,? I don't quite recognize who he is.

 -     Yes. A little cough.

 -Tell me, what is he offering you?

 - Can you come to the office?

 -     of course! , tonight, do you think?

 -     perfect!

 -    At eight o'clock. As always.

 (Like always? What time was that? No idea. But by seven I must even be bathed, albeit with a cup of water.)

 The simple idea of ​​meeting influential people within the national political and economic scene who could change my life, filled me with life, taking my spirit until then taciturn and shrunken, from the well where I was sinking.

 For a moment, I closed my eyes, thinking that I had won the lottery.

 - But the idea without works is vain, that's why, let's get to work! And the first thing I thought about was makeup for the old office.

 - Soldier, look for your companions, and tell them to come with many boxes, because we are going to collect garbage!

 -     Yes sir ! - giving the military salute.

 In less than five minutes the soldier returned with three more massive colleagues, each with three empty boxes in hand.

 -     very well! You two up front are going to start pulling out everything inside, including the sofa, the curtains, everything.

 -     Yes sir ! - without forgetting the greeting.

 - The other two, come with me.

 And the other two followed me into the disused materials room behind the kitchen.

 I had a copy of the key to that room, the one I had gotten in exchange for a night of love with the cook, old and fat, whose name I can't remember.

 -     what is this ? it just can not be ! They are whiskey bottles, well hidden under a disused military desk.

 I smiled from ear to ear, licking my thirsty lips with my tongue that asked for more, more, more ... how could I stop my instincts with such a temptation in front of me?

 Well no !

 I began, then, to always leave my office at night, and then return later with a bottle in hand, my best excuse for forgetting my lack of military rank and the more than ten years devoted to a renowned institution, and without rights paid, for not appearing on the official lists of officers - in truth, I wasn't even a military man, but I was left with nowhere to go.

 That was how it all started.

 The uniform,

 The greeting.

 The office.

 I opened the room, the one I knew by heart.

 And soon I was giving instructions to the subordinates:

 - Collect those screens, the desk, these chairs, and the sofa too.

 Do not forget the photo of the president, the shelf, and this paneling, placing everything on the desk, like a tower.

 They did so, in accordance with the military oath.

 We took everything and put it aside the path that led to the office in the background of the battalion, where the ghosts of the past lived.

 - to clean everything - was the order, and the soldiers looked for mops, brooms, buckets, detergent.

 We didn't have time to walk, so we ran, alternating washing and drying the floor while another swept outside, and the other dusted the furniture.

 An hour later, everything was glowing.

 By seven o'clock at night, my office smelled of soap, with the screens covering the gaps in the walls and the woodwork covering the ant hills.

 I even got a plate with peanuts from the kitchen and two glasses of whiskey!

 -     perfect ! - I concluded, with a big smile on my lips, while the soldiers returned to their posts, each with a bottle in hand, closing the doors of that deactivated battalion, as I closed it before gaining my office.

 -     eight! It's about time - combing my tousled hair by hand, fixing my uniform one size larger, but clean.

 I sat at the desk, pulling paper out of the drawer.

 -     just a moment ! This is the copy of a sentence, which says that the military man in question ... what does he say? - zooming in and out of the paper that ultimately led to clarity.

 He says that this colonel, skilled by right, has retired? Isn't he more active?

 Oh no! - closing the desk drawer, where I found an aspirin.

August 13, 2021 00:17

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.