Finally arrived from Paris, I don’t remember much but I am tired, unshaved with severe headache. The receptionist, a middle aged man with an overgrown moustache informs me that I am one day late. I just nod my head with my shades on, there is not much of a conversation. I receive some pamphlets about the place and a key. Then with a monotone voice he says: room 316, second floor and welcome to Malaga Institute.
I open the door and just standing there, barely 9 square meter, depressing dark and damp smell hit you like a baseball bat. I put my bag in the corner next to the some kind of desk with a yellow lamp on it. I sit at the chair and stretch my legs that hit the old wooden bed.
No fridge and no TV, there is a window but the high wall, barely couple of meters in front of it blocking the sun. I feel trapped, claustrophobic and need a drink. Walking down to the Super Sol and buy two bottle of whisky, soda, red wine and 2 kilo ice bag.
Since I don’t have a fridge I put the ice bag inside a small bathroom sink, then turn the hot water for the bathtub, pore me a drink and get undressed and step into the bath. I listen to music, sipping on my drink and start to forget, that’s the best part of drinking. After a while I put my drink on edge of the bath tub to look for Sia’s: You have been loved. Meanwhile I am looking, I managed to hit the glass with my phone and I see it gliding down the edge.
I get out the bath tub and carelessly step on the pieces of glass which cut my feet pretty badly. Well I am just standing there, listening to the song and see the blood spreading on the white floor tile, mixing up with whisky and soda. I use the toilet paper to stop the blood and wrapped it around my feet, then get dressed, put my socks on and my shoes, with some difficulty, going back to store.
I need to buy some disinfection solution and bandages, because of the cut I walk like a crab down the hill, dragging my feet behind me. On the way up I stop and roll a cigarette, I sit beside the flowers next to me and large garbage cans in front of me and thinking about love, lost and grief.
As soon as I come back, I disinfect my feet, put a bandage over the wound and sit on the bed, listening to music and staring at the floor, some ants running franticly all over the place. I drink some more whisky and soda, only this time in the plastic cup that I purchased earlier and continue watching the stress out ants, then put a t-shirt on the pillow and rest for a while.
When I woke up it was dark, feels like a grave, even smells like one. I am very thirsty but there is nothing to drink beside whisky and red wine. I get dressed and going outside the entrance, put the coin into the vending automat, aqua can drops down and I drink it until there is not a single drop left, then I throw the can which not landed into the basket.
I hear somebody laughing and that surprise me, middle of the night. I look back and there she was. I see this beautiful young girl with flowery summer dress standing there and smiling at me. Then she come closer, tilting her head sideway and starts talking to me with a sweet French accent while she rubs her palms together.