Dream in a Private Bubble.

Onde o seu sonho é sempre mais que uma ficção!

Olá, pessoal. 
Hoje trago a primeira parte do conto baseado na antiga música "My Girl",
na versão em que Tiago Iorc regravou. 
Ela é grandinha e postarei por partes nas postagens. 
Também é um conto em inglês e eu espero que realmente tenha alguém para lê-lo. 
Beijos gulosos. 

My Girl 

It was on a rainy Monday, at seven a.m., right in the middle of a subway’s wagon when he first met her.

Just like everybody else, Theo was not happy with the beginning of another boring week and even less happy with the quantity of people crushing him. Too used to the routine to even let out a frustrated breath, he just closed his eyes for a moment, wishing his bed back.

He supposed it was a ridiculous situation to meet someone, but that was what happened. Two stops after his boarding, the rush of people wanting in started once again and a body bumped his.

“Oh… Sorry.” She said and then bumped him again when the crowd pushed her. The woman smiled apologetically. “Not used to this day-to-day crushing.”

“That’s ok. It’s not like you can help it.” Theo said smiling back.

She had blond hair, golden blond – the kind that made you think of liquid gold in case you touched it. Her eyes were dark-as-midnight blue and very deep, very alluring. She was beautiful. Not too much nor too striking. ‘Beautiful’ was simply the word one thought when looking at her.

“Don’t know how people can stand this madness daily. I’m just suffering this torment today ‘cause I’m late for college. Again.” She rushed the words out and then paused when he just kept staring at her. “Do you face this everyday, don’t you?” 

“Yeah. Guess I’m not so lucky.”

She smiled slowly. “Pity on you.” The woman shook her head and then added. “Point for you too, though. You’re not so ill-humored like everybody else.”

“I am, actually.” He confessed. “But you look like you wanna chat, so… Pleased to hear you.”

She laughed aloud and the sound warmed him a bit. She had a nice laugh. A very nice, very appealing laugh.

“Boy, aren’t you a sweet one.” The woman commented with a great smile. “I talk a lot, I admit. I love people.”

She said that so matter-of-factly that he believed instantly. The talkative woman shrugged like that was a burden that she had to carry around every single day, year and decade of her life.

“Wasn’t I so entranced with art, would’ve studied Psychology. I’m a dancer, ya know? Gonna be one of the best some day.”

“I’m sure you will.” Theo agreed firmly with another smile of his own. “You seem to be an active person. Had to put all that energy into good use somehow. Bet you’re a great dancer.”

“Why do you say so?” She asked, interested.

“You’re determined to be one of the best; you must be at least great or wouldn’t dream so high. You look like a person who knows her own talents and weaknesses.” 

“My, my… Aren’t you an observer too.” Pleased with the compliment, she stared at his caramel-brown eyes and honey-brown hair. “What’s your name?”

“Theo.” He answered easily, considering possibilities. “Yours?”

“What you’d call me?”

“Hurricane.” He responded and when she laughed again, completed. “Like I said, an active person… You can’t seem to stop moving: your hands, your feet, your head… Your mouth, too.” He said the last with a small ironic smile.

The woman was having a lot of fun, something she wouldn’t have thought possible considering the place. “My name is Spring.”

“Really?” He couldn’t help his amusement.

“Yeah. You can laugh.”

“Thanks.” And he did.

Spring also didn’t try to suppress her laugh. “There’s a motive behind the name. Maybe I’ll tell you the story if I see you again…” Her smile was full of mysteries.

“I’d like to know.” Theo said, noticing that he really wanted to see her again. “Maybe if you could gimme your number.” 

“Maybe…” She said again.

Then with a velocity that surprised him, she opened her backpack and ripped a piece of paper from a notebook. Easily found a pen and wrote something, using the palm of her other hand as a rest.

“Here.” She stretched the paper to him. “That’s my cell phone and my profile on Facebook.”  

Theo laughed with that and she lifted her brow. “What? I’m a modern person. Hey, that’s my stop! I gotta go.” Using all of her limbs at once with the movement, Spring turned around to ease into people, but then threw a look at him over her shoulder. “It was nice meeting you, Theo.”

And like that she was gone.

Theo looked at the paper, reading the number and her name on it, and smiled. Maybe the week was in for a surprise, after all.


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