Pity

“Another one has arrived.” With that observation of Joanna, we let out a laugh. Valentina, not understanding anything, glances back to see if anyone else is at the door.

“One more what?” Valentina says, confused.

“We were just saying that love changes us,” I tell her. Joanna can't hold back her laughter.

“And you are one more,” Joanna says. “We’re complete.”

Valentina smiles in delight and comes sliding over to us and sits in one of the armchairs beside us.

“I was born to be Cupid,” I comment. I point out the flush in Valentina’s face.

“Selena, you were a thousand times worse than me, ok.” She narrows her eyes at me. “Now it's my turn.”

“And my turn to piss you off.” I shrug.

“Touché.” She points at me in defeat.

We keep stalling and talking about our delusions about love some more. But my near-ending pneumonia ends up spoiling my range of staying up late again and again. By around ten at night, I'm already dead.

As usual, I plug in my cellphone to charge a battery that lasts next to