Spacewalkers

50

Is it always this noisy in here?

My question was drowned in a cacophony of country music performed in a modern way with an admixture of some tearful pop filled with sad bravado about the injustice of life.

Vee, who sat across from me on a semi-circular sofa that surrounded a low lacquered table with a lot of inscriptions and phone numbers carved into it, placed two bottles of beer and a couple of small bowls of peanuts on its surface.

She only replied with a short smile, and then pointed to her ears. Her lips moved, saying "I can't hear you because of the damn music" and that's it. On this, our communication ended before it began. Although we didn’t need to communicate much in order to somehow begin to understand each other. At the moment, we have come to this bar filled and soaked with dirt, to wait for those who will convince me of something.

All week Vee and I lived in my tiny apartment. They lived together and harmoniously. She helped me settle in, went shopping and cooked until I