I lit a long-missed cigarette, fearing the arrival of tomorrow. As I drown in the poisoning cigarette smokes and tasteless coffee, the scent of perfume lingering on my fingers and lips, I fear the fear of Cinderella. Tomorrow is a whole new day, a day when I am no longer the Cinderella living in the perfect world, the day when I'd stop thinking of Barcelona, the men whom I had loved and made love to, the pictures of old jaded men walking aimlessly, wandering in and out of my heart, the moist openings for your big sweaty palm, the recklessness, the restlessness, the hate, the love, the melodies, the streets lined with men and women who haven't got the faintest idea of what love is.
You have come back to me, my life once again, or haven't you ever left?
I love you, I told L many many times in the days that went by without fear. Then I saw the tears welled up in his big round eyes, the innocence has long gone.
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