Tabula Rasa
Autor: Maurício | Publicado: 2009-03-10T15:07:00-03:00

"That's how it goes, you think you're on top of the world,and suddenly they spring Armageddon on you."Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry PratchettThe young man comes in from the rain. The bar is crowded, full to bursting, and smells of cheap booze, cigarettes and defeat. He feels at home. A strand of hair as dark as his humor falls over his eyes. He shoves it back with a curse. The noise is overwhelming."Black Label. On the rocks," he tells the bartender. She looks like Amy Acker."You're quite wet," she says casually, extending him the glass."You're quite perceptive," he snaps back, looking for a cigarette. They're all wet as well."Bad day, uh?""You think? Try year.""Oh, that bad." She grabs a pack of Marlboros and sets it on the counter. Red Marlboros, as if she could have known. He lights one for himself and lends her the fire. She blows out the smoke in charming rings. "Funny, it's been a year since we last spoke, or close enough as makes no matter."He stares at her blankly, draining the alcohol, confusion plain in his eyes. "You confuse me with someone else. I'm pretty sure I've never met anyone that looks like Amy Acker.""I looked like Salma Hayek the last time." She fills his glass again."Been to plastic surgery, have we?" He remembers the muse all too well, now. Another glass is drained and filled. "It's done you well. I never really liked the whole big-breasted-mexican look, to be honest. And it was too obvious a reference to Kevin Smith besides.""And how is this one not an obvious reference?""You don't have the scars. You're just talking to a numb, childish person without a personality, waiting for an imprint. See? I even had to explain it."She holds his hand as yet another glass is filled... the touch is light, silken smooth, the gentlest of promises. He isn't fooled. She'll never give me what I want. Only promises. "So tell me, muse... can you truly miss something if you're not sure it ever existed?""You can wish for it, I guess," she says carefully.The bar's no longer crowded. Dream-like, he realizes it's just the two of them now. He never even saw the others leaving. The silence is overwhelming."It's not like that," he tries to explain. "It's like... it was there, somewhere, maybe in another life, only you can't remember ever having it. You know you had it, but...""...you still wonder if it wasn't just an illusion. We talking 'bout someone specific?""Few people's more likely. But it makes no matter.""Of course it matters. Nothing...""...else matters, yes, you said it the last time.""...happens without reason. I'm past the musical phase, now, and I can finish my own sentences, thank you very much. If you no longer have whatever it is you had, you probably did something to lose it.""So I'm the one who caused this, that's what you mean." He was always one to state the obvious."No, but there's always something you can do - or not do - to make sure things stay the same.""Maybe I didn't want things to stay the same.""Then why are you complaining?" She smiles, and pours more whiskey. Once again her fingers brush his hand. He longs for more. I'm drunk, and she's right. But I already knew that. He drinks some more, and lights up another cigarette. Playing cool while cracking up inside. He thinks."Same reason Holden complained all the time, I guess," he finally manages to say. "Thing is... I miss the rules. All these new people... sometimes I'm at a loss for words or actions, because I don't know what to say or do around them. Or the old ones. I lost my manual.""You wrote a manual on how to act around people?" She sounds more amused than shocked."I didn't actually write it, I just established some mental guidelines, you know, like swiss neutrality."She laughs her sweet ominous laugh. "Shame. I could've earned some money selling something like that. But say that's what you need, then. Why don't you just freaking write a new one and stop pestering me?""Oh, I probably will... I just don't like betting while I still don't know the rules of the game. I used to know the rules. I used to play by them. Get advantage of 'em, sometimes, and bend 'em on more than one occasion... but never break them. Now I have no idea where it's all going.""Isn't that the point, in the end?""Maybe it is... but I wonder, do we really need a point? Say, what's up with working in a bar?""Well, I still had to cramp a reference to Kevin Smith somewhere."He smiles, turns his back and walks away, never to return.