The Drink

He loves my mind!

With joy, I went out, seeking everyone and no one in particular. “Mrs. Gonzales, how are you? Is the mister doing fine? He had a stroke? I’m so sorry.” Is that why her hair turned white in just a year? I hugged her before I left. Walking further, that’s when I noticed it. The promenade. It was surprisingly clean and devoid of everyday trash today. Then I made a small laughing sound, the kind where you suddenly expel a breath from the nose. In reality, the promenade was just a plain concrete sidewalk lined with mango and palm trees and other wild plants appearing in no particular order or organization. And in my side of the world, it was also a storage space for people’s garbage and the occasional home of a stray cat or dog. There’s nothing promenade-y about it. But ever since they started building the mall opposite of it, I have started using that long abandoned walk, thinking that it too, is part of the future shopping center as a promenade of sorts. I was even wearing perfume and neatly dressed especially today.

Feeling satisfied, I increased my speed and turned right to cross the road going to the pharmacy. If I wish to return home the same way I came and without a headache, I need to buy water. 

But isn’t this funny? 

When I realized that he loves my mind, it felt like drinking water on a hot summer day. No more wandering in the desert, I thought. But here I am. Looking for something I just metaphorically drank. Like I needed a physical event to repeat and feel what my soul already experienced.

What a mystery. No, he’s the mystery.