“Just one cup of coffee,” the customer said.
“We don’t serve plain coffee anymore,” said Alfredo, “what would you like to put in it?”
“I do not want anything to be placed in my coffee, but I would appreciate the coffee being placed in the cup.”
Alfredo expanded his arm beyond the counter and grabbed the gentleman’s tie with pure contempt. The counter was wide, high and of firm concrete, but he managed to get his head in touch with the man’s. The man’s 40 year-old face had a river of sweat escaping its edges. Alferdo kept staring into his eyes for a few seconds just to realize a young boy, who resembled the gentleman in a weird way, was standing in the dark background silently observing. He left the tie and checked the 7 year-old’s situation with his gaze; the pants were wet and the face red. The stains grew darker and wider as Alfredo merely stared. As the kid’s face started to wet and flourish in red, Alfredo jumped over the counter, almost hurting the startled man, and ran away. Alfredo ran as if he were chased by the nation’s men. His face had a pathetic stare and his eyes were getting wetter as time passed, and as it passed, he only hell-bent for oblivion.
He would’ve kept running if it weren’t for his tired heart. He wondered whether it had been more than a few hours since his last jump; he ran his hand across his cheek while thinking of Forrest Gump, but he dismissed the idea as ‘stupid’ as he felt his clean-shaven face. It all looked very familiar to him, but he couldn’t know where he actually was. While searching for a place to rest his legs, he heard an ungodly voice of 70 years—strong, though cracked—giving him the name ‘young boy’.
She was only few meters above him, sitting on the balcony exposing her melted thighs to the world.
“What is it, ma’am?”
“Get me a pack of cigarettes, I’ll throw the money.”
He was sweating in a manner most unnatural and his heart was pounding.
“What brand?”
“Marlboro red, soft pack,” the old lady said while throwing few dollars at him.
Alfredo gathered the money though little light was there.
“She managed to see me through the darkness and she yelled like a soldier,” he thought, “old woman extraordinaire.”

There was a small shop a few minutes away. Alfredo walked his tired limbs across the street wondering why he even replied to the half-naked old lady. As he was going in, a dark cat ran in front of him. The idea came instinctively, but he rejected the thought of a mere jumping cat causing him bad luck and considered it ridiculous.
The shop was serenely quiet but it only made him nervous. Its walls were cracked and the floor unclean. A sole soul was present, and he couldn’t see her face fully. She was sat behind a small counter abusing her mobile with her fingers while her slender legs crossed beneath a fluffy yellow skirt. He coughed as he moved nearer, hoping for the young brunette to notice his existence. She stood erect, naturally, as her job demands, but with a plain face almost dead. Her eyes had a tingle of red which would have been imperceptible if he weren’t standing so close. Alfredo was confounded by the size of her breasts, considering the rest of her was slim and small. His eyes kept jumping up and down perplexed by the question ‘Where to aim?’
“I’d like a softly packed Marlboro black, please.”
“What?”
“Red Marlboro, soft pack, please,” he said as he remembered the damned cat and cursed his luck.
“Maybe if you straighten your gaze,” she replied with a crack between her eyebrows.
“It’s been rough day, I’m sorry.”
The girl turned around to get him the pack, modeling the rest of her body unintentionally against a confused Alfredo who only wished she was the one sitting on the balcony.
He kept a close eye on her hands the entire time; as a child, Alfredo heard the wisdom of the old say, “if a woman plays with her hair while looking at you, she might be attracted to you, but if it’s her pubic hair, it’s certain.”
“I’ve never seen you before, are you new here?” she asked as she handed him what he asked for.
“I just came here because an old lady told me to; I don’t live here.”
“Ah,” she replied fixing her hair.
“Yes.”
Alfredo left disappointed as he had hoped for more, but he could, and indeed did, settle for a lonely ‘Ah’.
As he was walking back, he noticed the words ‘Get money, fuck bitches’ written on a grey wall, which was supposed to be white, in red paint. Alfredo walked past it without giving it a second look, but it gave him an unnatural feeling on the inside. It was nearly midnight and he felt incredibly lucky that the moon was at its brightest looking at it as his only guide at night. The old lady’s house was farer than he remembered, and he dragged his legs all the way through. The old lady was still there in her natural position, but her eyes were shut and most of her inner lip exposed this time. Alfredo stood confused as that damned cat kept jumping over his mind every few minutes. He knew he’d either be an idiot or a masochist for shouting in the middle of the night, but he considered it anyway. He convinced himself that it’s irrational and un-commonsensical as he decided to go and knock her door out.
The stairs were unnaturally brown and they oozed foul odor. Alfredo climbed it swiftly avoiding excessive inhalation and delaying exhaling. He showed the door his firm fist enough times to force the lady out of her chair and back to reality. She opened with her eyes almost closed while breathing heavily and constantly licking her cracked cherries.
“Who are you again?”
“I got your pack of cigarettes,” he said while waving the pack.
“Ah, yes, I remember,” she continued, “come on in, please.”
Alfredo walked behind her across the dusty furniture and the cats around them finally reaching the balcony a few feet away. He sat facing her on a plastic chair staring at her face. Her hair was brown, but slowly fading, and so was her pale skin.
“What’s the name, son?” she asked while fighting with the cigarette pack in the dim light of the midnight.
“Alfredo.”
A few minutes of shared silence passed quickly as she tried to light the cigarette she managed to pull out after the short fight.
“What is your name ma’am; you haven’t told me.”
“Bertha,” she replied in a confident voice.
“That’s nice.”
Silence again dominated, but went unfelt for the old woman as she enjoyed her smoke as if it were her last. Meanwhile, Alfredo scanned the complete house while sitting down with his tired eyes; he knew he must sleep. He didn’t know what time it was since the house was without a cloak.
“You look tired, son,” she said with an innocent cat-like look, “I know it’s a bit weird, but I’ve got an empty room for you, well it was my son’s,” she went on while guiding exhausted Alfredo across the house, “but he’s not here now, so you can sleep here; I won’t let you leave in this time of the night.”
Alfredo had a hundred questions in his mind, but his jaw was dead and all his eyelids wanted was to merely shut down.
The room was clean, unlike the rest of the house, and the bed looked most wonderful in his eyes as he ran closer to give it the ultimate hug. And he slept.
Alfredo woke up fresh, but his neck was stiff and his mouth dry. He felt relaxed and comfortable as if it were his first day as an adult. His clothes were abused and his hair was more atrocious, but he struggled to realize so as he spent the first few minutes of his day searching for the bathroom. Before finding the hidden one, Alfredo caught a glimpse of old Bertha lying in her bed with her back turned to the door. He didn’t know how, but he knew she was awake. She was just staring there at the cracked wall she faced directly hoping for noise to be sprung somehow. She did so every morning. He moved on to find the right door and inside the room of dim blue light, he found a new toothbrush still in its pack, and a small cat half asleep in the tub. Alfredo still wasn’t completely awakened to think properly; he grabbed the toothbrush and disrobed it after winning the battle against the pack. He washed his face, brushed his teeth and tried to straighten his hair which refused.
The tender smell of fresh coffee forced him out.
“It’s almost done, wait on the balcony, I’ll be there in a few,” was yelled in the kitchen.
Alfredo went out and exposed himself to the sweetest of morning of breezes in pure silence. The streets were empty, and they were all for Alfredo. He leaned on the rusted railing and took a heavy breath as autumn wind rushed against him.
“buongiorno Dio, lo sai che ci sono anch'io.”

Bertha came rushing with the coffee and set it on a small table between the only two chairs.

“You like it black, right?” Bertha asked in a worried tone.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Good; I don’t have sugar.”
Alfredo sat facing Bertha and looked at her face. He looked at her deeply-carved eyes and stared straight through her. He saw the signs of misery which dominated her life for the past decades. He knew she suffered. In that moment, Alfredo truly saw her.
Bertha was enjoying her coffee with the obligatory cigarette. He looked away and stared at the rest of the country. He was aware of the buildings around him, but he felt himself in nature. The travelling birds were for him to see, and the trees’ shivering was his ears’ delight. He saw everything in light green and lighter blue.
“What brings a kid like you here, eh?” she interrupted.
“I felt like someone really needed cigarette,” Alfredo half-smiled.
“You remind me of my son.”
“Where is he now?”
“With his father.”
“Where’s his father?”
“Dead.”
Alfredo sipped his hot coffee avoiding her dark eyes. The sip lasted for few minutes, but he refused to leave his questions hanging.
“How did it happen?” Alfredo asked.
“They drowned; it was a terrible accident long ago.”
Alfredo saw again what she had been carrying.
“You have such big empty eyes,” she said.
Alfredo’s legs were numb and so was his mouth. He sat confused and slightly afraid, but he didn’t know of what.
Time passed as quickly as it usually does, and the tender wind had them silenced throughout its passing.
Bertha was delighted, but he felt himself a burden against her. He felt he must leave.
“I really need to go now.”
“Won’t you finish your coffee?”
“Oh, it’s all done,” he stated while moving slowly across the living room, “it was really delightful; thank you.”
“Alright, but keep in mind you’ve got shelter in this neighborhood, son,” she said forcefully, “take care.”
Bertha contemplated his back in disappointment until none of it was visible