Kissses on the Forehead - Kisses on the Forehead (the first two paragraphs) by Liliana Blum

In your mind the song of that skinny Spaniard lingers insistently. In a voice hoarsened by the cigarette and excesses, he sings a story of an ugly girl who is “condemned to be chaste” and only receives “kisses on her forehead.” Worse, you think, if she carries a few more pounds and a few more years. “It won’t be me. Today it’ll be different,” you repeat silently again and again, as if chanting a mantra to exorcise the demons conjured up by Joaquín Sabina’s song.

'Suck in your belly. Raise your chin. Breathe deeply. Feel confident about yourself. Keep calm,' you tell yourself while darting your eyes around the plaza. He could be one of those men walking elegantly, at a steady pace, or one of those walking quietly, swiftly, pensively... But no. No one has a red carnation in his lapel, as he agreed in the last letter. His approval of your slight eccentricity ended up winning your heart. Anyone else would have laughed at the idea, would have called you corny and old-fashioned. But not him. Because he's special, unique. That's why you won't end up like the girl from the song. Everything will be different.


[ Read the whole story at http://www.hobartpulp.com/fiction/nov05b... ]