Finally free

Tell me a story, she says.

The first page of a new chapter: Barcelona in September. The first evening on the balcony of my new apartment. In the last light of the first day on the balcony with cigarette and wine. Barcelona in September and finally free. Free from Hamburg, free from always the same ways, from always the same subjects in always the same rooms. Barcelona in September and nothing, that reminds me. The houses and streets, the light as it falls over the roofs in my room, those yellow and red and those yellow and red and blue flags hanging from the balconies, my naked walls and the empty wardrobe. The empty wardrobe and my full suitcase and finally able to forget. Finally free from Hamburg, finally free from her. Her, who owns the last sentence of the first chapter. Her, who is the last name in the credits of the first part. Free from her. Finally free from her. Barcelona in September on the balcony of my new apartment in the last light of the first day with cigarette and wine. The first page of a new chapter and more questions than answers.

The first stroke on white wall: The opening of the leaf doors of my neighbor room. New voices on the balcony, while i´m unpacking my suitcase. You gonna share the balcony with two British girls, my landlord is telling me in the morning.

“So you are writing”, she says a couple of hours after sunset in a bar in El Raval.

“Yes”

“What are you writing?”

„I wrote a couple of short stories and a novel, but i´am not been published yet. Sure it´s gonna happen on day.“

She nods in admiration the way people nod in admiration when I tell them about my writing. When I tell them about my writing sure, that they never understand what i´m talking about.

„You have to read it to understand what i´m talking about“.

„Oh, i would like to!“

„But it is in German, so ...“. say i and say not that she should learn German, that i could teach her German. Don´t want to seem more self confident than i am. Like her maybe too much to play with her the same game i play with everyone.

„So i have to wait until it´s gonna be translated“, she says and continues talking to her friend.

So i talk as i´m used to talk and ignore the tension in this bar in El Raval at first evening with beer and wine and my new roommates. The first stroke on white wall and maybe a face.

The first chord of a new song. Heavy rain braking into the night. Lightning and thunder and only the two of you on the balcony. Only the two of you, sheltered by the rain, gazed silently into the black night. Finally there is silence. You stopped talking, stopped drinking and smoking, finally there is silence. The tension between you exists and a flash discharges in the night and in front of you the rain and behind it the apartments and balconies without light.

„You want to go outside?“, she asks.

Then you are outside in the rain on the street and dim light breaks through the waters. The wind lashes and warm drops sparkle from the hair in your faces. Warm, sweet drops and thunder and lightning over Barcelona in your fist night on the streets, just the two of you.

„I have to kiss you now“, you tell her.

„You have to?“.

„Yes, i think so“, and you kiss in the dim light, that breaks through the rain on the empty street in your first night in Barcelona. The kiss is short and wet and almost forgotten in the stairway.

„I think it was alright that you kissed me in the rain“, she says when you are back on the balcony.

„It was the moment and it felt special and it was alright that we did it“, she says wrapped in a towel on the balcony. „But we have to be careful with it. We are flatmates and ...“, she says on the balcony, wrapped in a towel, while the rain continues to fall incessantly. „It was the rain and was the moment and it was alright, but we have to be careful.“

And then, staring into the night, you are silent again. Staring into the night until the first light of the new day breaks through the clouds, the rain stops and the storm fades away. Until the day breaks, the rain stops and the storm fades away and you are finally free. Free in the moment, and not in yesterday or tomorrow, not in Germany or England, not at home with the faces you love or have loved. You are in Barcelona on the balcony wrapped in towels after a kiss in the rain at dawn of a new day.

„Kiss me again“, you say.

„But it doesn´t rain anymore.”

„I know“

And you kiss again and longer and deeper this time. You kiss again and later in bed under the white sheets just before you fall into sleep she says: „Tell me a story“.

The first cord of a new song and a voice breaks free.