Late in the day

STANDING IN the darkening bedroom between the king bed and the huge window, I watch it raining.

Late afternoon.

Between me and that window is a love-seat equipal and its matching single seat, both dark green, the first furniture I bought in Mexico years back.

The green is cloth, which differs from the more common cowhide you see on most equipal furniture. I had the set special made in Guadalajara, and it took ages to get here.

It’s fading now, the back, due to abutting that open window. I’m fading too but for other reasons. Time.

The rain bounces off the monster aloe vera just to the left and the leaves of the golden datura straight ahead.

My child bride is at the gym, so I’m standing solo, waiting for her, which I do many evenings. If she’s not at the gym, she’s swapping family tales with her sister.

She’ll be home before 8.

I’ll have two big salads made, our supper we enjoy on lounge chairs upstairs while watching something on Netflix.

Dull old people in the mountains of Mexico.

This has been going on for years. Sometimes it’s raining and cool. Other times it’s dry and cold. And yet other times — springtime — it’s dry and stuffy.

But now it’s raining and cool. I stare out the window and wonder, how did this happen? It’s good.

When I get up in the middle of the night for a wizz, I often pause at the bathroom window to see the streetlight and the mountains if the moon is out.

How did this happen?

It’s said that life is what happens while you’re making other plans. This is usually understood to be negative, but sometimes plans pale in the face of sweet, accidental reality.

14 thoughts on “Late in the day”

  1. Nice little piece, Felipe. Roberto Bolaño, the Chilean novelist who spent several years living in Mexico City in his adolescence and young manhood, said something like, instead of waiting there is writing. I guess you did both.

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  2. Nay, you are too modest. It may not have been a detailed plan when you landed in Mexico, but you did have an idea of what you wanted and you did make good decisions along the way. All was not happenstance. And kudos to you for making those decisions and making it happen! You planted seeds, tended to them. and they grew to fruition.

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    1. Enrique: Whatever plan I had was quite vague. It consisted of three parts. 1. Get married. 2. With her help, build home. 3. Learn Spanish.

      So you’re Enrique now? Planning for the future?

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  3. Yes, accidental reality is a great definition of how life can turn out if you just let it run its own course. Seems to have worked for you, and it definitely worked that way for me.

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