Una romanza monumentale

Synopsis: Rob is under the impression that he’s on his way to an important meeting. Presumably, the discussion could affect his life dramatically if the new informant turned out to be valuable. Meanwhile, Christy ponders the meaning of life and considers moving back to Hungary.

As the shadow of the peculiarly tall singer vanishes behind the pillar, as the vibrations of the scattered audience decrease in intensity, as vapors of barrel aged sympathy blend into one last resort, as you get paid back what they owed you for so long, as little spots form swiftly on an otherwise immaculate handkerchief purchased in the east, as you look and see fit.

As details of the future cease to resemble the ebb and flow of earlier theories, as swarms of electrolyte dancers gradually take possession of Soviet style avenues, as you had wished and hoped for.

As the buzzing drones look down on the area like they already know what’s about to happen, as additional explanations regarding how to customize a vehicle do not seem to suffice, as you furiously click the suitcase open after convincing most attendees to reduce their attention spans and raise their hands for more, as if something would happen then.

As the deepest form of proximity receives much praise and red carpets, as previously unrecorded specimens of life crawl past the immense pine forest, as you keep doing things unanimously, as yet another uninvited guest derails the bidding process despite the usual reassurances, as no decision is made or will ever be made, as they clear the path to several abandoned summer destinations, as there is no light or dry biscuits to break your teeth on, as reflections of speech and thought quite unexpectedly channel brilliance on the surface of your skin, despite the havoc and furor that bridge our two deserts of conversation, despite the lack of a tasteful espresso shot while all the action is taking place, despite the killings of undercover engineers pretending to have mourning families, as their tongues begin to dry out too, despite the threat of brief showers toward the end of the afternoon, despite the clarity of a proper goodbye during our last Hungarian encounter, despite protest against the canvas of reality, as you fold it over and over again onto itself until there is no space left between the folds, and everything has turned into a minuscule origami of seamless surveillance.

Without any second thoughts, Rob jumped out of a rather uncomfortable armchair to dodge the bullet. He made it home safely after all.

In the suitcase, there was a big box retailer’s loyalty card, banknotes of an unknown currency, advanced electronics, rare fragrances and toothpaste, two state secrets, brilliance and magic, a miniature hawk, a hacker’s guide to building a machine in a day at most, boredom and intentions. Rob left the suitcase for Christy who immediately interrupted what she was in the middle of doing.

Clearly it was time for an espresso.