22 Calle la Rosa – Part 100
“It’s not that hard to start a new life,” Bernard said gently. “It’s just really scary.”
“Until you’re actually in it, you can’t really know if it is or not…” Pauline replied.
Calle la Rosa 22 – an intriguing, complex series about a community’s life. Light, entertaining stories by Sonja Blonde.
“It’s not that hard to start a new life,” Bernard said gently. “It’s just really scary.”
“Until you’re actually in it, you can’t really know if it is or not…” Pauline replied.
Pauline shivered as the cool night wind picked up. She glanced toward the house but didn’t want to go inside yet. She pulled the zipper of her sweatshirt higher at her neck and pressed herself deeper into the sun lounger, hoping the rain wouldn’t start before she finally went in.
Ludmilla stormed away from Ted in a huff. She crossed the courtyard at a brisk pace and didn’t stop until she reached María José’s house.
“Ted,” Noud patted the Coke-bottle-glasses man on the shoulder. “Finally back among us!”
Ted raised an eyebrow.
“I can imagine how much you missed me,” he said sarcastically. “Especially you two.”
Carlos adjusted the thin red sausages on the grill to make room for the king prawns. He glanced sideways at Ted, who was sitting wrapped in a blanket in his own armchair. For a fleeting moment, it crossed his mind how pathetic the usually quarrelsome, angry man looked like this.
Pablo stood with his hands on his hips, surveying the artificial tree with satisfaction. Then he climbed the ladder once more and checked the branches again to make sure they were properly secured. He glanced down at the string of lights lying on the stone floor and sighed. Looks like he’d be going up and down all over again.
“Hey there, neighbor!” Dajana panted.
Viktoria’s piercing scream shot through the humid, gasoline-smelling underground garage and echoed for several long seconds.
Dajana stared at her, stunned.
Dajana drummed her fingernails on the grimy glass table of the rooftop terrace, slow and tense. A tiny muscle kept twitching in her cheek, her forehead folding into wrinkles on its own.
At least forty-eight hours must have passed since Ted had first pretended to be unconscious. He tried to piece it together from the two figures who appeared around him from time to time.
“Let’s see…” María José rubbed her dry palms together, trembling with excitement.
She straightened the four-legged magnetic board, adjusting it carefully so it wouldn’t wobble.