Andrea Milla Perez
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We listen to a young woman’s low toned voice.
My life was entirely for myself and I was free to do anything I wanted; yet I wasn’t able to feel anything at all.
INT. KITCHEN – NIGHT
Jinx is a 31-year-old pretty woman with an exhausted look yet delicately made up and wearing very nice clothes. She is sitting in front of a table in a very light late 70’s style kitchen with 90’s elements, playing anxiously with a deteriorated female comb.
The first time I went for a run I was running away precisely from that feeling of emptiness. The wind penetrated each pore of my skin as I rushed through the trees in the slight morning sunlight. However, I felt numb against its coldness.
Lemon slices the onion; the movement simulating a heart beat.
My heart was beating faster each step I took. However, I could not distinguish whether it was pumping thick blood or heavy air.
Lemon rinses the knife and the tap stays dripping.
Tiny liquid drops slipped down my face. However, I could not tell whether they were actually sweat or salty water.
The water in the pot boils vigorously.
Fatigued with reality, as I crossed the path of high grass I looked up and wondered whether it would be physically possible for human beings to explode. Whether they could explode just like the big bang did millions of years ago. Whether it was possible to create constellations out of pain.
Lemon pours the spices into the hob, finishing his delicately arranged Caribbean soup.
There are things I no longer believe in. God is one of them; a pretty straightforward process of elimination clarified that issue after she died.
Lemon has a cigarette hanging from his mouth, dressed like an old fashioned gentleman with a handsome yet profoundly aged look.
Nonetheless, right then, I suddenly discovered I was able to feel the pressure in my lungs, the pain in my legs, my skin perspiring, the pounding of my heart. I found myself feeling too much at once to be able to process any of it, and the only thing I could do was run, like an addiction or maybe a sort of medication.
Lemon puts the two bowls of soup on the table. Jinx looks at him, exiting her inner cathartic state as she puts the comb aside and tastes a spoonful.
You look like you could do with little meat on them bones
Are you trying to fatten me up?
I’m just saying you don’t need to be on no diet
I have to admit. This is delicious, Lemon
You glad I’m back now, huh?
You look so much like her
Don’t spoil this for me
Silence. Jinx continues eating her soup looking straight at her bowl. Lemon observes her, standing up to clear the bowls. He plays a tape in the cassette as he hums the slow reggae song playing and begins to dance. Jinx observes him fascinated and smiles. He pulls her to stand up and they both start dancing closely, gently touching. For one moment, she looks happy.
They both sit down on the table and give each other a seductive look. Lemon glances at the comb on the table and Jinx notices it. He stands up for some olive oil.
(Pointing to his legs)
Jinx sits down between his legs as he starts combing her. Lemon is in a state of trance, brushing each and every hair as if handling a treasure.
You did her hair as well, didn’t you?
He nods. There is silence.
You see, most things, all they need is a little gentle handling
Lemon continuous the action comfortably whilst Jinx submits herself into the care, looking straight, hesitant.