Fiction: The Wizard Part I

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July morning. The sun is still not burning the sidewalk, but the breeze is already warm. The first coffee shops are opening up and I can smell baked bread everywhere. The sky is still orange. I take my off my sunglasses to look at the sun. “Such magic” – I think.

My brain is returning to the earth after spending the night in Alpha Centauri. 24h without sleep, but I still feel it’s the dawn of a new day. The warm touch of the morning summer sun and the vivid dream colors make me feel fresh. With me was the “wizard”. My new soul mate. We met each other 10 hours before. I was halfway through my second beer. The place, besides the usual smell of dry beer on the floor and tobacco, was reeking of wet wood. I was sitting on a tall stool next to a big window.

My back was turned to the counter, I wanted my privacy. It was a decent enough bar for any rock fan, old record covers all over the walls, autographed guitars inside glass cases, and old festival t-shirts. The bartender was the bar’s best costumer, it seemed that he alone was drinking more than everybody inside at the same time. Lucky enough, he didn’t had his attention turned to me. I was staring at the folks going down the street thinking about my old home, my old country, and I kept on wondering, is this it? Am I where I am supposed to be? The “Jazz” that I had was not completely gone, but for the first time, I was beginning to doubt.

I still loved this city, but I felt the city was not loving me back. It was despising me and at the same time it gave me moments and places to comfort myself. But I don’t want just to feel comfortable, for that I would’ve stayed with my folks back home, doing a 9 to 5, getting hammered every Friday night, and the rest of the time watching TV. I want passion. I want to wake up and feel excited for what is to come on that day. I won’t succumb to lethargy. I keep repeating it to myself, but more and more, I feel that I need help. I need someone. I hate myself for that, is that pride? I like to think that I don’t have an ego, that I can see things beyond myself, but… I don’t want my happiness to be dependent on someone. Still, I need love.

Those who are lost always find each other. I found the “wizard”. No romantic setting, no crazy coincidental event, just a couple of words from the bartender -“This is Marcus, he’s also sad about life, you two should have a beer together.” after saying that he laughed like he had just said the most brilliant joke ever invented by man. Anyway, it did work. I started talking to Marcus. Boy… that was a good decision.

P.

Interested on how it continues?
Read here: The Wizard Part II

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