the short story project


Child of the Sol

The ballad of rum and wine.

Her hair was styled in a refined pixie cut that made the pitch black that covered it look like some kind of luxury, she was so elegant, that even her gray hairs looked stylish in a way that it made her look wise, or at least, that’s what she made you believe.  Each of her ears was decorated with a small golden hoop and her body was covered with a long black button down tunic with tiny white details patterned all over it, and even thought her skin was black, her wrinkles had a shine that it was clear to everyone that saw them, that she did not miss being young.

Simple, and yet the way she carried all this together, showed that she was wine: elegant, with a hint of sexy in her own way, not for the taste of everyone, and maybe that’s why he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

In the other side of the room, another black, really dark character was sitting by itself. His dreadlocks were long and darker than his skin, deep like his thoughts. His jawline was hard, firm, like his looks. His eyes combined perfectly with this last characteristic, hidden behind big, bold, dark glasses making it difficult for her to read him.

His skinny-washed, dark jeans showed that his style was left in the 90’s between underground rock bands and Tony Almond. Also was his grey, Pink Floyd shirt, but his mouth had something quiet attractive for a men that old. He was strong, and he had aged well, of course, after all he was rum.

When the night turned enigmatic enough, well, as enigmatic as it can be when you’re sitting on the convenience store of a gas station, the lovers stood up their seats and met each other in the middle of the room and started dancing some sweet soft rock ballad that sounded from the cashier’s computer, showing that their love was as young as the first day they danced together, cause they always could keep it that way, after all, they were rum and wine, a really bad combination for any drunk, but in their caribbean essence, they were this bohemian drunken state that fitted so well together in the language of mixology and love.


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