Categories
Short Stories | Contos

THE DONKEY SITUATION

I was minding my own business when the intercom starts buzzing. This is rare. Actually it would only happen when there was some package or registered letter. There was a donkey on the video screen.

“It’s the mail”, said a voice I knew quite well, but I could only see the donkey’s head nodding. I pressed the button to open the door and went to the bathroom to look at myself by the mirror. There was no donkey looking back at me. One doesn’t know how far hallucinations can go.

After throwing some water to my face I opened the door and stared at the elevators. One of them had the light flashing. This was not Carnival nor Halloween, There was no movement on the extinction and procreation of donkeys right now. Either way, besides donating a few euros there was nothing I could do.

The door of the elevator opened. There was a donkey and the mailman in it.

“Mr Gilberto Inácio?”

“You know very well it’s me. I offered you a coffee last week at Mendes.”

“I wasn’t asking for your name. I was just wondering whether you were expecting a donkey.” Man and beast walked the aisle, as elegantly as possible, hooves echoing on every walls like the rattle of a machine gun. “This donkey is yours. Please sign here,”

“This is a mistake. I’m not signing that.”

“Do it as you please. I’ll follow the protocol.”

“Do you have a protocol for delivering donkeys?”

“To farm animals in general, yes.”

“This isn’t a farm.”

“According to protocol, once you’re home to receive the package, this is donkey’s wonderland.”

“I will not sign and I will not keep the donkey with me.”

“Very well. I’ll leave the donkey here and flip the receipt under your door. Have a nice day.”

“Wait a minute! What would you do if I weren’t home?”

“We knew you were home.”

“How would you know that?”

The mailman and the donkey looked at me in the eye.

“We are the post offices. We know everything about everybody.”

I felt a chill and got angry.

“How come you leave acknowledgment receipts to withdraw packages on the post office if you know when I’m home?”

“Sometimes we want you to go there.”

“What for?”

“To be checked out.”

“Checked out?”

“Of course. We can’t check out clients and let them know that. It would contaminate our files with wrong data. So we make you go there and check you out while you collect your package.”

“Check me out for what?”

The mailman shrugged his shoulders.

“Who knows?”

“Someone above you, I suppose.”

“Oh, my chief knows nothing. He just runs things.”

“And above your chief?”

“Who knows? That’s nothing of my business.”

I swear to you the donkey was laughing at me.

“I’m not keeping this donkey.”

“I will follow protocol.”

“No, you won’t.”

“One thousand euros fine says you will.”

I was chocked. I considered he was bluffing, but his eyes showed me otherwise. And the donkey’s.

“I must add”, the mailman hushed, “the fine for not signing the receipt is two hundred fifty.” Again, no bluffing in his eyes and the donkey showing its teeth.

“Give me that.”

He handed me the board with the receipt attached for me to sign. I carefully read it. I knew the sender. Too well. It was all explained.

“Have a nice day.” Now the mailman was handing me the rope of the donkey, before turning his back while whistling The Beatles’ She Loves You.

“Hey! Isn’t there any letter?”

“Nope.”

“Not even a note?”

“Zip. Only the donkey.”

He disappeared in the elevator, leaving me with the package from my ex-wife.”

Saturday, August 21st 2021

Categories
Short Stories | Contos

LOVE’S MUMBO JAMBO

Gregory sat on the bench, tightly close to Sophie due to the cold. For thirty eight years they would sat there every Saturday afternoon, except on vacations. When occupied, they would lay down on the lawn. The river started to change color as the Sun moved towards the horizon, dimming the stains of pollution to tones of mustard. Some kids were jumping on skateboards, boys and girls. Though he could be their grandfather, the girls were making Gregory horny.

“Good heavens! Things never change!”, muttered Sophie, flashing wide open his overcoat. “With this cold and you having a lump under your trousers. They’re underaged, Gregory!”

“It’s automatic. You hear me saying this for decades. Do you really want to have another argument on this?”

“I thought you’ve learned something.”

“Their boobs are giggling, for crying out loud! There’s no learning to restrain the effect! We could be on the North Pole and my pole would rise still!”

Sophie punched him in the stomach.

“Time to get you distracted, you sperm brain.”

It hurt, but it did not work.

“Honey, come on. You also get aroused when some well dressed Adonis passes by. You blush like a tomato.”

“I do not!”

“You’re blushing right now, in denial!”

“Here we go again.” She rose her arms to the purple clouds. “We know the drill back and forward, and we will repeat it all over again until we die.”

“Even after our death, honey. This is eternal. This is eternity itself.”

“Sure is. The programming of nature, the gods and God. Thou shall have lust and jealousy.”

“Right. The urge for multiple sex encounters and to demand fidelity from each other.” Shivering, Gregory closed his overcoat and rested his head on Sophie’s shoulder. “The darnest thing is knowing all this doesn’t prevent us from lust and jealousy and from blaming each other.”

“I must blame you. I am your wife. I’m the love of your life for almost forty years.”

Taking a deep breath, Gregory growled:

“Their boobs are awesome!”

“Stop that, you pedophile!”

“I bet you’re now remembering the surfer you stalked last Summer. The kid was fifteen!”

“I wasn’t stalking him!” Sophie punched Gregory again. “He just happened to be in all places.”

“You offered him sandwiches and tried to put some cream on his chest.”

“There was a red alert on the weather report! Some people had to go to the hospital with sunburns and dehydration.” Now she rested her head on his shoulder. “God! We really are survivors. The excuses we get to keep our animal selves getting their way.”

“I like being an animal.”

“I noticed that.” She patted his thigh.

“You’re blushing”, he whispered.

The Sun was getting orange. Two skaters kissed. It was damn cold.

Saturday, 12th June 2021

Nuno Neves

Categories
Poems | Poemas

STRENGTH

Most of my life

I’ve been all alone.

Existence is a strife

tearing me to the bone.

My friends are few,

and family, untrue.

I had my companions,

all them long lasting,

my wonderful sirens

who ended my fasting

periods and despair

of belonging nowhere.

My mind is wounded.

Nothing too serious.

My scars are funded

as the ones of others.

Wrinkles in clay

from childhood to stay.

Highways of the unconscious

trigger emotional responses

no matter how rigorous

my knowledge of nuances

designing the brain

and my heart in pain.

You can not fly

whilst having no wings.

Most people deny

the physical rings

defining our soul,

will and call.

Saturday, 3rd June 2021