Ariel Glaria Enrique
HAVANA TIMES – Out of the toughest problems a writer might face, none of them seemed as hard as the simple act of writing one word after another, in K’s eyes at least.
Everything boils down to this, he thought. That’s how he started thinking he could become a writer and, by association, a sharp-witted guy too.
Another thing was the fact that after eagerly reading every new book or author, his certainty that there were less stories to tell and less ways to tell them, grew.
This soul-searching process had external repercussions. K became a withdrawn man, with a strange appearance. One example I will always remember was that he used to tie up his trousers with a tie, for a while, because he didn’t have a belt.
His father, who saw him very little and ignored his concerns, thought he was a madman. However, it was during that time of the tie for a belt that K discovered love.
He saw her for the first time one afternoon, at sunset, on Cojimar’s coastline. Suddenly (there is always a suddenly), reality’s hit him and he returned back to this world. He didn’t talk to her about books, he didn’t even try to be sharp-witted. She didn’t miss the fact that he was holding up his trousers with a tie.
When K said goodbye, he gave her his phone number. She told him where she lived, in great detail. Some time later, K realized that he had given her the wrong number.
It was hard to explain, but he went out looking for her. He soon found her home in Cojimar. She accepted this with the same complicity she had had when she saw his tie.
The following day, K asked to borrow a belt. He visited her three nights in a row. On the fourth night, on New Year’s Eve, they kissed for the first time.
K hadn’t used any tricks and he hadn’t deceived her with fake stories about himself, but he felt like that kiss was a dream and said something of the sort.
Then, she just asked, without even looking at him: “Is there anything more real than a kiss?”
Ever since that day, K felt like that was the first story he needed to tell.