Silvia exited the Customs Office feeling stunned and a little dizzy. After such an emotional last week in Bariloche, she’d had to go through the long flight that had taken her to another time zone, another season, another country, another culture, another language. She looked around, feeling she was running on fumes and she was about to pass out any moment now.
Jim threw the sign she hadn’t seen into a bin to come stand before her, hands in his pockets and a smile under his black cap.
“Looking for somebody?”
Silvia just dropped everything to fall into his arms. He held her tight, kissing her hair, and felt her shiver nonstop. She needed a whole minute to fight back her tears and get a little grip on herself. When he assessed she would be able to walk, he took her hand, grabbed the luggage cart with his other hand, and took both to the parking lot without a word.
Silvia just let him lead the way. She was there, with him, finally. Sh
They staggered into the bedroom and fell on the bed as they kissed, their hands struggling to get rid of their clothes.Silvia pulled Jim to bring him on top of her, yearning to feel his weight. There was no other body to hers, no other hands to touch her, no other lips to drive her crazy, no other skin to stroke hers. She wrapped a leg around his waist, pushing him down, and moaned when she felt him inside of her, his fire sweeping it all away, and she gave in to his need and his exasperated anxiety.Because that was exactly how he was feeling. He’d never missed her body, he’d never needed her like this. Yet there he was, fighting himself back to keep from going off like a frigging teen, growing crazier with every moan he pushed out of her mouth, every move of her hips, every touch of her fingers, every brush of her lips. Like he would never have enough of her.Why was he feeling this way? Why nothing seemed enough? When had all bodies lost their ap
Silvia woke up to Depeche Mode’s Personal Jesus.The sun was setting and she was alone in bed, tucked in soft sheets that smelled of lemon and the fat white comforter. Jim had left a few hours ago to let her rest, because after those weeks apart, it was plain to see she wouldn’t get any rest with him around.She’d fallen sound asleep, exhausted, and now she had the persistent feeling of being still lost in a dream. But she wasn’t. This was not the Black Rock. It was the Ashtray, her new home, and that music had to be a phone ringing.But not hers. She’d never used that song as a ringtone.She followed the music to the other nightstand, where she found a new phone still inside its open box with a red ribbon. And she laughed out loud when she grabbed it and saw the caller was My Personal J.“Hey, you awake?” Jim asked when she picked up, still chuckling.“Hey, you just woke me u
That was just great. The flash flood had reached the Interstate, forcing the incoming buses to turn around, so the service had been cancelled until further notice.She felt a sudden urge to smoke. Considering it was pouring, the bus station staff overlooked those nicotine addicts with a little survival instinct left, and allowed them to smoke at the entrance hall, indoors and safe from the wind and the rain. She gave her luggage a concerned glance: rucksack, duffel bag, guitar. Why the hell had she kept the guitar? Only a few people remained at the bus station, but hard statistics dictated that a single person was enough to snatch all of her things away. She realized that was a third-world thought. Was she not in “The Shiny City Upon The Hill”? Just in case there was another third-worlder around, she asked the man at the nearest ticket booth if he could look after her stuff for a while. “I’m leaving in fifteen minutes, ma’am,” he warned. More than enough. She lit a cigarette as s
That was just great. The rental had broken down in the middle of the storm and of nowhere.He cursed his brother’s idea of renting that ranch to spend their ‘creative break’ away from spotlights and paparazzi. But he cursed louder his own idea of renting a car at Fargo airport, instead of taking a bus and meeting his brother at the bus station near the goddamn ranch.He checked his phone again, in case a stray miracle had given it back any coverage. Damn. It was as dead as it’d been since he’d driven deeper into the countryside and the storm. He looked out the windshield, but it was pouring so hard, he could’ve had frigging Godzilla right in front of the car and he wouldn’t see it.However, he was pretty sure he’d spotted lights up ahead before the damn car broke down, when the wipers still worked. According to his brother’s directions, that should be the bus station ten miles south of the town near the ranch.He had no way to know how far it was, and the wisest thing to do was hunker
She sat down in the gap with her back against the coffee machine, face to the glass doors. That way, she even had room for the guitar on her lap. She could hear the old man humming My Way from the gents’.She wondered what she should play, tuning the strings. Most of the songs she knew were sad love ballads, not exactly the best choice for the occasion. Maybe bringing the guitar wasn’t such a good idea, and she should just burn out what battery her phone had left. That made her think of the music she had in it. She smiled. No Return’s songs were nothing like tender, and she knew enough of them to keep herself entertained for a good while.Lucky her, she had many of the rare acoustic versions, so she wouldn’t need to improvise some lousy adaptation. She’d taken about a year of guitar lessons, but she’d had to drop them long ago, so she wasn’t that good at playing.Her fingers slid over the metallic strings, looking for a chord. There it was, the beginning of Break Free.She didn’t look
Where was he? How long had he slept? His arm was numb under his body and his back ached. He sat up, rubbing his eyes with one hand as the other reached for his phone. Ten-thirty, he’d slept about an hour. A chill ran down his sore back. It was cold there and he was already wearing the only sweater he had. And there was no coverage, of course, forget about internet.He remembered the coffee machine at the hall. Getting up wasn’t easy, but the promise of a hot drink pulled stronger than his weariness.He strolled across the waiting room, fishing in his pockets for change.The family was enjoying a late picnic of snacks and the old man mopped the floor near the closed booths. An hour later and he still hummed the same song. Outside, it poured like frigging end of the world.It was even colder in the empty hall. He shivered up to the coffee machine, so old it didn’t take bills, only coins. So he inserted one into the slot and waited for the buttons to light up.They didn’t, and his coin c
The gentle poke kicked her back from her private idaho of bitterness and despair to reality. She looked up to find a young man frowning down at her from under the peak of his baseball cap, looking halfway between concerned and not quite convinced about what he was doing.She tried to move away from him but the wall behind her cut her way, so she nodded, glancing at the end of the hall.The young man studied her as she stood up slowly, her back still to the wall. His eyes were dark in the shadow of his cap and he set his square, firm jaw, stepping back when she tried to come out of the gap.“I’m fine,” she muttered, annoyed at his attention, wiping her nose on the back of her wrist.She wanted to go to the ladies’, but he was in her way. So she kept her head down and just brushed past him.The soft click when she locked the restroom door made her feel safe from new disruptions. She rested against it for a moment, trying deep shaky breaths. Thank God the old man had left the place squea
He dropped himself on the couch, still swearing black and blue. They could go to hell, the coffee machine and the fan. He was so pissed, he didn’t bother to check if his phone had any thread of coverage. As if.He’d downloaded his emails at the airport, so he thought he could kill some time reading them. He brought his legs up to the couch and turned his back to the waiting room and the rest of the frigging universe.The third email made him smile. It was from the head of the LA Squad. As usual, she wanted to know when they would be back home, so she could put up a signing with the local soldiers. She was a funny mental case that followed them since before their first album, and she never abused her privilege of direct communication with him.Even though he wouldn’t be able to send his reply unless he found a way back to civilization, he started typing it. Until something blocked the light. He glanced up to find the fan standing right in front of him, handing out a steamy paper cup to