Tag: Short Stories

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Short Stories

The Other Night in Piccadilly

“When did we stop doing that?” Charlie asked while pointing at a group of friends —probably not older than 20— drinking beer and laughing under the statue of Eros or well, as Charlie always obnoxiously pointed out, the Shaftesbury Memorial Fountain. “I’m sorry to inform you we’re not too young to be kids nor too old to be adults,” I said. “You’re such a granma Claire,” Charlie said. He stopped holding my hand to get a cigarette that he ended up choosing not to smoke, but rather throw into the tip jar of a guy singing Sinatra songs. We kept walking. Charlie’s plan was to go and eat something in Chinatown, I on the other hand simply wanted to get some takeout and eat it while watching whatever was on the TV at the moment. “Do you ever think about where you will be in 30 years?” He asked. “First, I don’t know if I’ll be alive or if there’s still a planet. Second, I would hope, settled, maybe with a family, not sure,” I replied. “You see? I would hope to be in the middle of Thailand taking street photography or in the Middle East eating some local food. There are so many things to do, places to be, people to know,” he said. For the record, Charlie has never been anywhere further than Birmingham, and it was by accident. “Since when do you want to do all of that, we’ve been together for 8 years and I’ve known you for 10,” I asked. In the past months, he’s been acting like his time is running out, as if he needed to do everything now. “Precisely, I’ve been the same Charlie forever. It’s been Charlie and Claire for God knows how long,” he said, not looking at me. “Eight years,” I noted. “Well yeah, eight years! That’s a kid in primary school,” he said. “You’re acting like it’s a bad thing we’ve been together for that long. I don’t have you tied up, you could’ve left,” I replied. “Could I? Could I, Claire? Eight years,” he said under his breath. I felt like crying, not entirely out of sadness but out of anger. “You’re such an idiot, Charlie,” I said aggressively wiping the tears off my face with my hand. “Perhaps it’s best if we…,” he said. “Perhaps,” I replied looking away. Charlie tried to reach for a hug but instantly regretted it. He kept walking, I turned around and walked in the other direction. I went back to the statue of Eros. One of the guys from the group shouted: hey you! Come with us. My first instinct was to ignore him and keep walking, but I didn’t want to go back home and explain to my mum everything that happened, so I turned around. As I was approaching them one of the girls said to the guy who shouted: don’t be an ass. “I won’t,” he said. “So, why are you crying, love?” He asked. “I don’t think she wants to talk about it Michael, shut up,” the girl said. “You’re right. Let’s drink to that,” Michael said while handing over a can of cheap beer. I opened it and chugged the whole thing. I hate beer. “Woah, I was not expecting that!” Michael said. “Are you from around here?“ she asked. “Yeah, Camden, my whole life,” I replied. She approached me and whispered in my ear: was that guy your boyfriend? “Yes, eight years,” I replied. “Men are such idiots,” she said. “Amen to that,” I replied. “I’m Katie by the way,” she said as she opened another can and handed me one. “I’d like to make a toast, to…—” Katie said while looking at me. “Claire,” I said softly. “— Claire. We often find and lose love at unexpected moments,” she ended. We sat around the fountain for what felt like an hour, I’d already had three beers on an empty stomach. We talked about politics, musicals, flamingos, and death. “I’ve got to go, my mum is probably worried about me,” I said simply wanting to go back home and cry my eyes out for hours listening to Taylor Swift or something. “Bakerloo line?” She asked. “Yeah, but then I’m taking Jubilee,” I said. “That’s alright,” she said. Katie said goodbye to Michael, she kissed him. “Text me when you’re home, love you,” he said. Michael stayed there with another guy to whom I didn’t talk to. We got to the station and boarded the train. “Was that your boyfriend?” I asked. “Yeah, we’ve been together since high school, I love that crazy man,” she replied. There was a moment of silence, the only thing we could hear was the rattling noise of the train and a group of — probably— lost Spanish tourists talking. “Do you know what hurts the most? That Cha—my stupid ex, virtually said that being eight years with me was somehow a bad thing, like a waste of time,” I said holding back my tears. “People who’ve been lucky for too long stop thinking they’re lucky and just think that’s how it’s supposed to be,” Katie said. “Baker Street,” the voice from the train said. We both got out. “It was lovely meeting you,” I said. “Me too,” she said. I walked towards platform 10 and she walked to another one. As I turned around to ask for her number or Instagram I could no longer see her.

© Gabriel Berm

Categories
Short Stories

Blackout


Today my calculus professor told us that we were probably having a long weekend since the campus was getting some sort of wiring improvement, which was great since I could finally spend some time with Emily. I called her, and she agreed to take a 10-hour bus from Denver to visit me. I would’ve gone to Denver but her roommate hates me for some reason, so my dorm was our only choice. My roommate Farid was always cool when Emily came over, he was going to have his annual Harry Potter marathon with some guys from his major anyway. Since Emily was going to take the night bus I had to clean the dorm as much as I could, weeks upon weeks of RedBull cans and Cup Noodles’ remains close to fossilization didn’t exactly go away with Lysol. Farid had this habit of saving stuff for later to recycle, the thing is he never actually went and recycled it. Farid left the dorm at around 7:00 PM. “Enjoy the weekend my dude,” he said, wearing a Slytherin hat. After an hour and a half of cleaning, the dorm looked somewhat presentable. The only problem I had was it didn’t exactly look like a nice place to have a date, it —still— looked like a boys dorm. So I called my friend Erin for help. She got there in about ten minutes. “So? What’s the emergency?” Erin asked. “Would you like to have a date here?” I said. “No,” she replied decisively. “That’s the problem,” I continued. “Is Emily coming?” She asked. I nodded. “What about not taking her here?” She said. “I have $25 left, those books professor Anderson asked for were ridiculously expensive,” I said. “Fine, I’ll be back, give me ten…fifteen,” Erin said as she left, almost jogging. It actually took her 20 minutes, but she got there. She was carrying a cardboard box filled with a barrage of different objects. Erin started taking out of the box a set of garden lights, two scented candles, a psychedelic-tablecloth-looking thing, and a Bluetooth speaker. Once she arranged the lights, set the candles, and the speaker on top of the tablecloth thing she said “I want all of this back by Monday.” “You’re awesome,” I told her. “I know,” she replied. I set the alarm to 6:00 AM to get ready and pick Emily up at around 7:00 AM and went to sleep. The next morning, I got woken up by Shaggy’s sweet voice singing Bombastic —that has been my alarm since I was 15. As I checked the messages I noticed a text from Emily. “The night bus was full, I’ll take the 8 am one, love you.” I was half relieved and half sad, on one hand, I could resume my sleeping but on the other, I was going to see her less. “Got it, text me when you’re close, love you too,” I texted her. Nine and a half hours later I went to pick her up. We kissed and we hugged, then drove back to campus. When we entered the dorm and I tried to turn on the lights, but, they didn’t turn on, in fact, nothing did. The sun hadn’t set yet, but unless it suddenly decided not to set for the first time in billions of years, we were out of luck. “Weird, didn’t they tell you something about the power going off on the weekend?” Emily asked. I quite frankly forgot that the dorm was indeed part of campus hence it would be subject to the wiring situation. “I’m sorry,” I replied. Emily laughed. “I can see you had quite something planned here,” she said, admiring Erin’s setup. We ordered some Uber Eats and ate it while sitting on the tablecloth with the candles lit and Vocalise Op. 34 playing in the background. The sun, not skipping another day, eventually and predictably flawless set. The room was now fully lit by nothing but the two candles Erin left. We talked about college and how different it was from high school, she told me about a guy who got arrested on campus for selling fake AirPods and I told her about a girl who got caught cheating using glow in the dark ink and UV-light-emitting pen. It was around nine or ten, the already almost finished candles were with every ten minutes burning even dimmer, Emily said that perhaps we could see the stars since all the lights were off. I took two red SOLO cups, a carton of cheap wine Farid and I had stashed just in case, and we got out. Emily was lighting the way with her phone’s flashlight. I took her to the roof of the computer science building, the tallest on campus. We sat there, admiring the starless sky, but from the distance, we could see the reason we couldn’t see the stars —the city— shining brighter than any trace of a star we could try to spot. I placed my arm around Emily, and she said “it’s beautiful up here” and I replied looking at her eyes reflecting the not-so-distant buildings “it really is.”

© Gabriel Berm

Categories
Short Stories

Last Day In Old North | Short Story

After days of trying to fit it in our schedules, Anna and I could finally go on a proper date. We had a “date” last week if you count falling asleep on the couch re-watching Mad Men, a date. I know she’s excited about her new job, she’s already becoming a fine lawyer but I’ve been working for two years already and I always had time for her…us. Anna loved lobster so we settled on going to a lobster to-go place and then to my apartment. I arrived early at the restaurant and ordered for both of us. She got there about ten minutes later.
“So how was work?” I said and then started eating.
“Alright, we have this divorce case that is sucking the living joy out of all of us, the husband is a rich guy, the type that is not going to give away some money without giving a fight,” she said.
“Cool, I know you don’t like divorce cases but this seems interesting,” I replied.
“I hate them, I remember going with my mom to her divorce lawyer every week, it was horrible,” she said biting on her lobster roll.
“Do they have kids? The rich couple,” I asked.
“Josh, could we not talk about divorce anymore? And no, they don’t,” she replied seriously.
Anna looked tired and confused. I thought it might’ve been the whole divorce thing. She never understood why would people who are willing to get married stop wanting it. Sometimes I think she hasn’t broken up with me for precisely that reason, she wants to prove to herself right. Even if we’re not married, yet.
Once we were done eating we went for a smoothie and walked towards my apartment. I love Boston, it’s such a nice place, I’ve always liked it, that’s why I decided to stay there after college. I didn’t plan on going back to Utah with my parents, that’s for sure. We walked by the Old North Church, in my 5 years of living in Boston I never went there, it was always either packed with tourists or on service.
“Cool church,” I said hoping Anna would ask me to go inside.
“Not really,” she said drinking from her pineapple smoothie.
“Come on, I’ve never seen what’s all the fuzz about it,” I said.
“It’s an old church, it’s on the name,” she replied without looking at me.
I didn’t say anything, I could feel Anna was looking at me.
“Fine, let’s get in,” she replied with not a drop of enthusiasm in her voice.
We got in, it’s was white and wooden, just like anything old in America. I wasn’t impressed by it, I preferred the sun outside, to be honest.
“It’s OK, one less thing I have to see before I die, we can go now,” I joked.
Anna’s eyes were fixed on the organ.
“My parents got married here,” she said softly.
And that’s why she didn’t want to go there, I thought.
“Oh,” I gasped.
“I didn’t know, Anna, I’m sorry,” I continued.
“It’s fine,” she said dryly.
“I’ve been thinking, perhaps my parents were right, maybe it’s not meant to be,” she said, still not looking at me.
“Your parents thought it was the right choice to end it, it doesn’t mean they didn’t love each other,” I replied.
“I’m not talking about them, I’m talking about us,” she said.
I froze right there, I was unable to say a single word.
“Josh I don’t love you, or maybe I do, I don’t know, the one thing I do know is that I don’t want to be with you,” she said.
“Since when?” I said finally getting to form a sentence.
“Months,” she replied still looking at the organ but now a tear was sliding down her cheek.
We didn’t say anything else, she gave me what was left of her smoothie, like she always did, then looked one last time into my eyes, and left the church.

© Gabriel Berm

Categories
Short Stories

That Night In Rotorua | Short Story

After driving for hours we finally got to the camping park, we barely got to see Rotorua, it was starting to get dark. Emma doesn’t really like to go out at night, she likes to rest and read rather than going out for a drink. I parked the camping van — which was more like a repurposed Toyota SUV than an actual camper — near to a beautiful clear lake. I went to pay for the night and then came back. Emma was asleep, she didn’t even notice we were at the park already. When I came back Emma was taking photos of the lake.
“Nice place, huh?” I said with some pride in myself for picking the best spot there.
“It’s so pretty,” she replied without looking at me.
“Wanna eat something? We can have chicken-flavored instant noodles or chicken flavored instant noodles from another brand,” I said somewhat joking.
“Surprise me,” she said smiling.
As I was boiling the water at the “kitchen,” Emma grabbed my ukulele and attempted to play it.
“Why is it so hard to play? It’s just four strings!” She said now looking at me.
“You’ll get the hang of it, we still have a month left from our trip,” I replied.
“Yeah, it ended up not being as awkward as I thought,” Emma said while “tuning” the instrument.
I poured the boiling water inside each noodle container and placed a plate on top of their lids.
“Awkward?” I asked.
“My sister said going halfway across of the world with a friend, alone, would be awkward,” she replied.
“I knew you would come, you tend not to care what other people think,” I replied.
“I don’t. It’s just, everyone back home thinks we’re having sex all day long but in reality, we just eat instant noodles and you sing me songs with this thing,” she said tapping the ukulele.
“Do you wanna have sex all day long?” I asked jokingly.
“Shut up! I’m being serious,” she said hiding the giggle.
The noodles were ready, I gave one to Emma and we started eating. Emma couldn’t eat without listening to music and since no one has yet discovered how to sing and eat simultaneously she hummed. Desire from Ryan Adams was playing, she loved Ryan Adams.
As I was opening the lid I noticed how clear the sky was. You don’t see that many stars in San Francisco. You’re more likely to bump into a Hollywood star than seeing an actual star. I told Emma to get out and check the sky. As her eyes were hooked on constellations which names I’m too ignorant to know. I could see a perfect reflection of each and every star on her deep brown eyes.
“Wanna stay out for a while?” I asked her.
“Sure,” she replied.
I took out a pair of foldable chairs and placed the two next to each other. I also took out a can of mosquito repellent and sprayed both of us. Now we both smelled like what Off thinks eucalyptus smells like.
“Do you ever think about that day?” She said not looking at me but the sky.
“What day? The day?” I said.
“Yeah, at Patrick’s house” she replied.
“We were drunk it was just a kiss,” I said. “Or, was it?” I continued.
“Yeah yeah, just a kiss,” she said softly.
“We could kiss now,” I said regretting it as I finished the sentence.
“I mean if we kissed at that party at Patrick’s house which had nothing special… I’d say this view demands a kiss,” she said, also seemingly regretting saying it.
I looked at her, our chairs were less than 2 inches apart, now she was looking at me. We kissed. Then as I was starting to go back to my original position, she held my hand. We were holding hands. And we fell asleep while listening from the distance “Just in Time” by Nina Simone playing on Emma’s phone inside the van.

© Gabriel Berm

Categories
Letters

The Silence

Lingering in this comfortable but lethal silence gives me enough time to think about everything we could have been if my luck had been different…

In this silence lie my thoughts and desires. This silence is equal to the silence you gave me in response to the infinite love that I gave you. Lingering in this comfortable but lethal silence gives me enough time to think about everything we could have been if my luck had been different, all the fictional situations that will never happen, all the kisses I dreamed of, this silence invokes you to torment my mind and shake my already wounded feelings. When I think about you every fragment of my body is terrified, my thoughts and body alert me of imminent danger. You carry with yourself utter grief and absence of love. My heart slows its beats to go unnoticed, so you don’t retake it. My apparent calm breathing, false facial expressions, are all I have when the tiniest memory of your existence drills into my thoughts. My tears tell me that they are about to burst into a profound and sincere lament. But just by looking into your eyes all the security protocols in my body disappear, and I fall back into your dark tentacles that drag me into the depths of a mysterious abyss loaded with terror and agony. With each fake smile of yours, my body becomes unsteady, and I begin to lose my balance. My nerves are altered and start to move incessantly, revealing my weakness to your hypnotizing and evil powers. Losing all trace of serenity when I’m in your presence. When you leave, my entire being suffers a devastating catastrophe, everything is destroyed, you have looted all the love and stored it in your impenetrable vaults. Once again I have to rebuild everything, one memory at a time.

© Gabriel Berm

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Uncategorized

Another Goodbye

Imagining that you would return to kiss me and I would feel those lips that were the closest form of perfection ever experienced.

That moment, that precise moment in which little by little our eyes start to open after the long dream of love. Only that countless times it hurts while opening them. Tho to many people it happens in a snap, to others, it is a much more tortuous process. Apparently, the grace to finally awake from the dream of love, full of arranged lies, contaminated kisses and rehearsed hugs, at the end has to hurt. At least you have to experience some pain, a little or a lot, that is irrelevant, but it must hurt. To see that person whom I believed to be perfect and in spite of seeing her entirely in a physical way, or why not, perfect in general, that pain in your chest that increases in quantity and strength with each heartbeat. To see from another point of view the stage where everything ended and to think that what I could have done while every tear slides down the cheeks as a growing pain penetrates the deepest of my feelings. Remember all those moments of joy and not be able to avoid wanting to repeat them, remember the day we met and feel how much in love you used to be. Feel like the world falls piece by piece to the compass of every minute passing away from it. Create a feeling of happiness and consolation to believe that ending it was for the best when my heart does not cease to shout for it to return and in the form of protest the eyes begin to shed tears by someone who will never return. Many wish to forget, but sometimes it is better to remember without feeling that sensation of agony that annihilates every trace of delight and happiness. To lie down in bed and remember the happiest day of the relationship and wish for it to last forever. Noticing how everyone laughs with ease and I don’t stop thinking about that person who made every day, night, week and month worth living for. Looking at the calendar and fix the look on our anniversary, without being able to avoid many other tears pour. Sleeping every day knowing that I won’t receive a “good morning” message when I wake up and get home without waiting for a call asking about my day. Listening to songs that once seemed to describe that particular person and now they are nothing but lyrics with a rhythm that burst in the heart and pierces it like thorns. To see those photographs that we took together and to know that they’re nothing but a testimony of what we used to have, that instead of provoking a smile those photos cause a persistent pain, a feeling of anguish and solitude. Imagining that you would return to kiss me and I would feel those lips that were the closest form of perfection ever experienced. Remembering those eyes that exhibit a soul that seemed to match with mine. Wanting to forget all of that to stop suffering, to exterminate all memories of her and as if nothing had happened to see how the heart starts to function in a fully natural way. To hope that our paths have never been intertwined in order prevent all this affliction, to forget every kiss, every caress, every hug and every word. But sometimes we want things, but they’re not always what actually favors us, and life will not intervene for us. Having to face the pain, the misfortune, the sadness and every tear until there comes the point where she is just someone else across the store, and there, right there, I’ll be entirely happy. Maybe eventually someone else will come into my life to whom I will have to recite all these words while my voice breaks and everything starts again.

© Gabriel Berm

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Uncategorized

Without You

You have reasons not to love me and I love them, just as I love you.

It’s a new feeling, without expecting it, I can feel like a little tear slips down my cheek, in this tear, are you. Every cubic inch of you is in this small tear. With each tear my soul begins to purify itself, it begins to cleanse all the feelings that I feel for you, one drop at a time. My sad heart beats unselfishly as my hands shake. Dilemma invades my thoughts. Wishing for what never happened, accompanied by tears composed of something more than water and glucose. Dying for a kiss, a word, a sign of affection. Within me the memories that I have with you burst, while I feel like with every minute that I am not with you, my heart desires to stop beating. You have reasons not to love me, and I love them, just as I love you. The old habit of imagining that there might be something between us. You are like a miracle, so unlikely that you begin to doubt its existence. I could ramble for a whole year hooked on those beautiful brown eyes that are just above a perfect nose, making a perfect match with the fine hair that covers your head, back, and shoulders. I placed my soul on offer, and you did not accept it. There it will stay in the windowpane of broken hearts, waiting for a buyer. Our paths crossed for nothing more than a passing friendship. My desire to have your travels by train to the heartbreak avenue. I offered you a castle, my heart that needs to be ruled by a princess will be left without a ruler. Death comes by because of the sound of sadness that my whole being screams knowing that I will never be with you. My feelings are overshadowed by your simple existence. While my eyes reveal a sense of pure sadness and indefinite love. Every time I close my eyelids, my heart speeds up because there you are. Awakening, the first image that comes to my mind is one of yours. I know I’m not enough for someone of your worth, but without you, I’m like a saint without paradise or like a ship without a captain. I am as sad as a dog abandoned for decades or as a thought derived from some possible situation that never happened. Until always, I love you.

© Gabriel Berm

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Uncategorized

My Greatest Error

Perhaps it was senseless to me to believe in what my passionate eyes told me and what my heart, drunk with love, indicated me.

Maybe my mistake was to be the best person I could’ve been, to open myself completely to you, to reveal my deepest secrets, my greatest desires, to be faithful to you, to listen to you when you needed it, to think all day about ways to make you happy and at night to dream about you, hoping that it would never end, figure a future with you, rarely thinking of doing something in which you were not included, succumb myself in your eyes and fall in love with your smile with every minute that passed, listen to ridiculous love songs and not be able to avoid thinking about you. It may be that my mistake has been to be for you when you need me, regardless of the time or day. Also, my mistake might have been the fact that at some point I actually believed you loved me as much as you told me, to think that love could be more than just a temporary illusion. Be willing to go to the end of the world for you. Now I know that losing you was not to be left with nothing but to lose it all. That my greatest nightmare was to imagine the moment when we would no longer be together. It could also be that my big mistake was to put you like the most treasured thing in my life and very foolishly believe that it would never end and that it would not hurt as much as it hurts now. To think about what we used to be and without being able to avoid it, feel like every tear makes a slow and tragic journey into loneliness, lack of love and melancholy. Trying to think of anything but you, but forget that for me you were everything and, sorrowfully, everything reminds me of you. Blindly love you as newborn loves life, thinking that you could somehow be the one. Supposing you were incapable of hurting me and especially, that something could hurt me as much that you did. Perhaps it was senseless to me to believe in what my passionate eyes told me and what my heart, drunk with love, indicated me. Dream every night about you just to feel you closer, wishing for your kisses when you were not with me, and show off the world that I was with you. The most likely significant error was to believe every lie that I swallowed without even questioning it, to believe that everything would be okay and that at the end of the tunnel there was a light, when in fact the only light was you. Getting excited with every call and with every letter I received of yours. Now that I see you more and more, but still can’t hear me, to see how with each passing day everything is forgotten and as if all began again. Starting to feel some small signs of happiness that with fear of being annihilated by someone else come out little by little and starts to multiply, when suddenly you come back to my mind, and those small signs of happiness become misery, agony, and sadness. The tears get back to work, and the heart collapses again on its own ruins, with every memory of you, my body protests and feels powerlessness, almost on the verge of grief, believe that maybe, just maybe everything could become whole again. Still, that does not reassure the incessant attacks of despair that overrun me, to know that you are happy to be without me shatters my already crushed heart. Not wanting to know anything about you and wanting with all my strength to escape from this world to make sure I never see you again, becomes more and more difficult, I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to cry, I don’t want to suffer but one thing is to want, and another very different is having the ability to actually do it, one is before the other, who knows, maybe I will, but that will not keep me from writing these words, so I do not despair and allow your presence to take over me. Maybe my mistake was to love you more, but first of all, it was to love you.

© Gabriel Berm

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Uncategorized

There She Was

I felt the heat of a thousand suns when I heard her frail voice…

And there she was, sat a few feet away from me, with those deep brown eyes and her characteristic charming smile. So close that I could swear I was able to smell her perfume. So close but incalculably far away, almost unreachable. Her beauty trapped me immediately, I was able to see in her what others couldn’t. My eyes placed over her but my mind rambled for the great and poorly explored valley of love. I was able to feel my heart beating harder and longer with every second. Being completely lost, she turned her head, and when she saw me our eyes met, I felt how my heart stopped for a few moments because I wasn’t able to handle her grace. That profound and sincere sight, that she owns is just marvelous. Every inch of my body shouted to go after her. As I was getting closer, slowly and carefully with the idea not to make a wrong impression, I’m astonished because each step I made towards her, the more beautiful she looked, I felt the heat of a thousand suns when I heard her frail voice. Now I could really smell her perfume, but even though I was just a few feet away from her, we were unimaginably far away. I could fill a book with everything that passed through my mind the moment I saw her. We were talking for few minutes, I couldn’t believe it. Marveled by her, I leave with a feeling that a lot of people say they’ve felt, but just a few really have. Simply by imagining her, instantly makes my heart beats stronger and I get lost in memories that will never happen.

© Gabriel Berm

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Uncategorized

Lost In You

Losing myself with every inch of your body and every millimeter of your existence, feeling as my soul was renewed quickly and gently.

When I look at those beautiful eyes that once looked at me too, with that innocent look of the two of us, getting lost in the beauty of your figure and the depth of your eyes. Your face, an incredible and beautiful masterpiece capable of competing with great artistic pieces by great Renaissance artists. That smile that illuminated the entire place while showing honesty in it. Holding your hands and looking into your eyes I told you how much I loved you, with that dim light that only gave the environment a feeling of incalculable purity. Seated at ground level, alone, each one of us lost in the thoughts and desires of the other, then it begins to build an atmosphere of absolute happiness, without double meaning, without hope of any kind, only the thoughts and longings of the other submerged in the waters of what is popularly known as love. Losing myself with every inch of your body and every millimeter of your existence, feeling as my soul was renewed quickly and gently. This moment was concluded with a kiss which creates a discharge of all those emotions and feeling enchanted by this, all of this creates a moment worth treasuring.

© Gabriel Berm