Pieces

The woman who brought me coffee was a man.

I saw a dog in the street and wondered if it was a cat. Then a kid kicked his friend in the groin and laughed. His friend cried like crazy and shouted crazy words.

Sitting around the corner was a couple, whispering words of love, and perhaps words of wisdom too. I heard them giggle as they shared an ice-cream that they bought from a motor-cycle ice-cream vendor outside. The woman who was a man looked at them and then to me and smiled.

I stared at the coffee, a thin line of crack on the rim of cup, an undissolved piece of sugar. A tiny bug…where did it come from? I blew on the bug. It flew away but landed in the cup. I dipped my little finger and fished out the bug and drank the coffee. It tasted like shit.

Crowded street – loud and hot and humid. People mopped off sweat from their brows with tissues or shirt sleeves, except for a beggar who let sweat run down his face onto an old coke-can filled with coins.

Some whores hung out their heads from the windows of a brothel, their lips red and cigarettes white, looking amorously at some passerby. Smile. Wink. Smile. Hair long and wet. A white kite flew above their heads, its string tangled on an electric post. A bird on a wire looked tired and bored.

An old man smiled at a dog. The dog was pretending to be asleep.

My coffee was cold and tasteless.

The woman who was a man fixed her look on me and smiled, suggesting so many things at once. I smiled and walked away as soon as I could.

Once outside, I thought, ‘What if…?’

Bizarre.

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