PUNK GIRL

Punk Girl
Daniel Navarro

Gone. Forever. She disappeared completely. I do not recall our last goodbye. Perhaps there was no farewell, no sad fanfarre, no Mozart's requiem. Pricking memories out of my personal dust, I go to the attic in my head, I remember her two-bedroom, small-kitchen, quietly grading papers, and having me there. Coffee pot whistling. Embarrasing: her roommate got completely surprised to see a guy in her living room one Sunday morning. I lied, I betrayed, I did what a married man is not supposed to do. I cheated. No excuse, no even an attempt to.

She wanted to make love in the road. Right In the middle of if. How can a woman come up with such strange fantasies? I was doing fieldwork in a National Wildlife Refuge. I drove her to see the thick brushland and oak forest interspersed, as well as the loneliness I used to enjoy there. She started to undress while I was driving. Five minutes later, all naked, asked me to stop. I parked. Her skin was part of the horizon.

You remember her smile? We were at M's and his brother flattered her on her haircut. All punk. She was a punk outside, innerside she was a writer, an artist. A beautiful illinoian punky girl.

That night. Javelina Stadium. Hard. Chisel. Freezing. Stattering. Mumbling. That night, the she told me. We decided no. Told her I loved her. I would support her in whatever circumstance beyond the immediate that was about to come. Hammer. A deep dive. Went to Austin. Harsh. The attic in my head is still a lonely place, perhaps that's why I keep it shut. Perhaps you never knew this.

She took off. Or perhaps I left her. As usual. Memories take the role of real life when the latter is a different world. I feel guilty of causing pain, Plea guilty of making her and other women, suffer.

My gray hair, you saw it. Yes. That is a new look after a few years, My life is quiet, perhaps I will move to a cabin in the middle of a fir forest.

Men are enigma, you say. Yes. A true enigma. I agree. Perhaps she will appear sometime in the future. I still remember her voice. [If you happen to read me: "Howdy"]

Thanks for bringing memories this afternoon.

Besos





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