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Spicy Moment 10 - Part 2 (The folder)
#1
Read the part 1 HERE

   I arrived at the agreed place about 10 minutes before the appointed time, perfect, that way I had time for a drink and I needed one even for someone like me, that don’t usually drink, ordered a coffee and a whiskey with two ice cubes at the counter, and went to sit on the terrace; it was a magnificent spring day, the sun was shining and despite some wind, it was quite-well out there, I sat down, lit a cigarette (strangely the first one I smoked that day) and waited. Spent a few minutes, already with the coffee drank and preparing to take the first gulp in the whiskey, saw him showing up, made a sign with my arm and waited for him to come to me. Mr. Ricardo Pinheiro is a little man, a normal feature, without any distinctive mark, I couldn’t help noticing that it was perfect for the kind of ‘services’ he provides; wore a dark blue suit, normal cutting, no tie, with a white shirt and black shoes, there was nothing in him that made us look a second time, a perfect anonymous among other anonymous, just another face in the crowd, something really vital for his line of duty; I couldn’t help smile at the right choice I made when decided to hire him.

   He greeted me cordially with a firm handshake and sat, - Good afternoon Mr. Ricardo, do you want to drink anything?– I ask him nicely – No thank you, Ms. Sousa, I appreciate but I don’t drink and besides, this is not a social visit, I’m at work – he replied, with a voice that also couldn’t help noticing that had absolutely nothing distinctive, was paused, monotone and completely devoid of any grimace or accent. – Well then Mr. Ricardo, let’s go straight to business– Took the whiskey glass to my lips, gave the first sip, the alcohol going down my throat calmed me a bit and continued – Please, tell me what you found out– He opened the suitcase, rummaged for a few seconds inside and when he removed his hand, a white folder emerged from there, he quietly put the folder in the table, taking care to turn it to me and that’s when I noticed that writing in a black pen as title, were two words, Tania Sousa.

   I spent a few seconds looking at the folder; do I really want to open it? It would be worthy? Am I prepared for what is inside? I was still in time to give up, open it or not? I took a cigarette, lit it calmly taking a deep breath, gave a long sip on the whiskey, looked at him and impulsively grabbed the folder putting it on my lap. I opened the cover… and the first thing I saw made me shudder, Mr. Ricardo said something, didn’t realized what and didn’t care, photographs, several, more than twenty of them, in A4 format and with high resolution, started to pass them, one after another, they were methodically ordered as telling a story, at each one I pass, felt like someone craved a knife deeper and deeper inside my chest and then, they ended, and what came next was if that someone would stop sticking the knife and instead began to turn it inside, excavating, opening a whole; came to my mind the famous scene from Indiana Jones when the priest rips off the heart in the sacrificial ritual and then show to him still beating… I felt that way, like if someone ripped my heart and then show it to me, and it get worse, when I saw what came next.

   Mr. Ricardo was still talking, I noticed something like – Are you alright? You want a glass of water?– I should be livid, not answered, what followed were two photographs, both from the same person, a child, could not help but notice the similarities, looks…exactly the same, same nose, same lips, the same torn eyes, only the colour was different, to see it, closed the folder on impulse, then closed my eyes and when I opened them, I felt them wet, I wanted to speak and I couldn’t, had a lump in my throat, I knew what will follow; grabbed the cup and drank it all in a gulp, then took the cigarette that was burning in the ashtray and smoking it quietly until I calm down, then, with a deep breath returned to the contents of the folder that was in my lap; coming next to the two child pictures, a scripture, it took me a while to realize, but then there was light in my mind, I figured it out, all of it, gulped and continued, more photos, 5 or 6 with various views of a small, but well treated villa with a small garden upfront. I light another cigar and almost choked when I saw the latest documents, both officials, I thought asking him how he had managed to get it, but… then I noticed the dates and don’t know how I didn’t collapsed right there, I felt I was falling into a well, the feeling of emptiness, powerlessness, deceit, lie, loomed from me, wanted to breathe and I couldn’t, heard him speak, saw him get up and come back with a glass of water, took the glass from his hands and drank it, closed my eyes and felt tears running down my face.

   When I recovered, I noticed the last paper there, handwritten, probably by him, a kind of chronology, situations which corresponded to a date, a whole sheet of them, which included tours, visits, trips abroad, flight number, hotel, restaurants, all very well detailed and accompanied by a code, that later I came to know that belonged to invoices and receipts that he had put on the back cover of the folder that he had given to me. Reading the dates I dumbfounded, I remembered so well many of them, of course, how couldn’t I? Corresponded to the numerous trips to Madrid, Paris, Brussels, for symposia, conferences or simply travel to some universities and teaching Hospitals where, presumably, he would be the ‘guest of honour’… HOW STUPID I WAS!

   Finished reading and processing all that and closed the folder, light another cigarette and stood there, not talking, just smoking and looking at a ‘blank spot’ in front of me, slowly, taking my time, I recovered, and for the first time since I grabbed that folder, I spoke – “Mr. Pinheiro, you did a magnificent job, worth every cent we agreedMs. Sousa, I…I am so sorryPlease, call me Tania, I don’t want to hear that name anymore, from now on, I am Tania – I told him, unable to hide all the pain I was feeling, - Very well, Ms. Tania, anyway, please accept my apologies, believe me, I rather haven’t found anything– I didn’t answered, opened my bag and took from inside an envelope, put it on the table, also turned to him, got up, put the folder inside my bag, straightened my dress and told him – Mr. Pinheiro, it was a pleasure!– greeted him and calmly, walked to the parking lot.
To be simple is to be great
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#2
That hate I have for your ex!!!!
Let's see the bright sight of this world!
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#3
Hello Tania
... sad ... as (somehow) expected ...
Well written, giving us an awful glimpse of your feeling in this moment.

( i believe that (your) writing never can reflect all (your) thoughts and feelings at this moment
and never really can show how deep the fall into darkness, despair, sadness and all other bad feelings was. )

It explains so much and i am glad i could attend and perhaps help you a little here on your (self chosen) way to a new good and self-determined life.

* Kisses and a big hug ;-))
[Image: detail.gif]
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#4
*hugs Fen* I'm so sorry, DAMN what a fucking asshole! I was expecting that, but...the way you put it, SHIT!
Que filho da puta!!!!!!!! and I imagine that something was lost in translation, I imagine the expressions in Portuguese...
Hang in there Fen *gives her another hug*
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#5
abraço Fen... I love the way you write, I tell you that already, right? amazing!
I agree with Maria, so many words, so many emotions missed in translation but still, very emotional and intense!
A big kiss my dear friend.
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#6
Thank you all for the positive reactions!

Maria and Tant, yes of course, in translation several things get lost but I think you all get the general idea, right?

Cath my sweet princess, I kind of ripped the word 'hate' of my dictionary now, peace and love, simple things, living live, a day after another and wait, wait for what live puts in front of me; ah! and making it happens, my projects, my ideas, so many things, many meetings, I want that for my future and no way, I just sit and wait for it!
To be simple is to be great
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#7
I see, you're right. But each time I remember what he did, I get angry. It's not your fault, but each time someone gets betrayed, I'm getting mad.

Of course we don't need to live in the past, we have to move on and look forward to a brighter future. I just hope that you feel the same pain again, or no pain at all.
Let's see the bright sight of this world!
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#8
No pain? that's impossible Cath, of course I feel it, how couldn't I? but the pain gives us strength to carry on, at least for me it does!
And we must carry on, Cath!
To be simple is to be great
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#9
Roger that!
Let's see the bright sight of this world!
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#10
Wow..
Expected.. but wow..
I am so sorry y dear.. Happy you found your strenght, but sorry for the pain that forged it
A loving hug to you, as no more words i can find

Com carinho, de um amigo
Every word a world
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