For Sara.
What is the price of happiness?, they asked themselves later. They had been working together for a long time.. They had not seen each other for two months due to the confinement they had been forced into due to the pandemic.. They had spoken on the phone, yes indeed, some video-chat conference, emails, but, since the State of Alarm was declared, they had not been able to meet face to face, in person.
But that morning they had to take care of some business and, now free of limitations that would force them to be locked in their homes, mobility restrictions partially lifted, met for coffee. It was a splendid day. In fact, It was even hotter than usual for that time of year. (preview of the summer that was coming). A sky blue sky, shooting almost white as the hours of noon approached, protected a city that, in your eyes, seemed to wake up from a long lethargy. in the streets, people were moving again, more or less busy, to and fro. There were more pedestrians than cars (sign that things were not quite back to the old normal) y, planted in front of a pedestrian crossing, He thought that waiting for the traffic light to change from red to green was a real fool's errand..
He was five minutes late for the meeting.. At home, He had entertained himself with some emails before leaving. Quickly, They looked for a place to sit. After unsuccessfully trying the terraces of the bars on the main streets, much busier, They found a table in a small place on a pedestrian side road. In a short time they dealt with the matters that had served as a pretext for the appointment and began to chat about other things.. They talked about the virus, Of course. “People are very nervous”, she said. After the appearance of calm, there was a certain state of anxiety that permeated everything. Uncertainty about the future, the possibility of contagion, a resurgence that would return them to a stricter confinement, They were threats (intangibles) that flew over the collective psyche of a society that, despite what he had experienced, He didn't seem to believe what was happening to him.. How do you fight an enemy that has no corporeal form and may be lurking anywhere?? unknowns that, despite the information disseminated at all hours by the media, They didn't seem to have a clear answer., which, they believed, it fueled that general anxiety even more.
From there they went into politics, another hot topic. and what country, They said. what a disaster. There is nowhere to get it. They pulled the strings and discovered a less than hopeful present (We don't even talk about what happens tomorrow, they concluded). Everything was convoluted. The references had been lost or those that existed did not seem to provide much confidence. And although they disagreed, as is logical, in this or that, in a country so polarized in which it was difficult to resolve differences without exalting passion, They spoke calmly without being afraid to expose themselves, comfortably inhabiting spaces tinted with gray without fear of anyone pushing them towards a white or a black that, more than clarifying things, They end up messing them up without giving a solution, but more confrontation. Because in this, like in life, falling into absolute answers is always and as a matter of principle, a recklessness. It's not worth going into more details., not to avoid possible criticism from the reader, but to leave our two characters calmer and not deviate from the topic.
When talking about themselves, it was discovered that, being different, deep down they had many things in common. She said of herself that she was on the shy side.. He appeared to be more extroverted.. Or maybe it was the other way around. Actually, It doesn't matter. What really matters, they would come to say, the thing is, whatever each one was, in public or in private, They were two people trying to survive obligation or necessity, depending on how you look at it, to relate in a world full of uncertainties. in one hand, the temptation of loneliness. On the other, the almost complete certainty that the more relationships we maintain, the more chances we will have of being hugely disappointed. Y, however, despite the problems, as Woody Allen would say, “we need the eggs”.
Speaking is one of the skills that distinguish us as human beings.. And although sometimes we get tired when we talk too much (to listen to us, to listen to others), there is no doubt that, in us, It is a basic need. And perhaps that was the crux of the matter.. Two months locked in their homes had deprived them of the healthy pleasure of conversation and now that they had resumed it, They savored it like two kids with new shoes. (or those whose parents have bought the latest console; I say that we will have to update the saying). They had chosen well. The table they were sitting at was in a shaded area., which mitigated the pressure of the heat of that midday of a spring that they thought at some point that this year they would no longer be able to taste.. A soft breeze passed through, suddenly, the alley. They felt it on their back, in the arms, on their necks. The coffee is hot and just right. black and thick. two fingers, the cup half empty or half full, depending on how you look at it.
About the conversation, after evaluating the extremes, in the midst of so many crossfires, They were quick to conclude that the good thing in life was in those small pleasures. And maybe it was all because it had been so long since they had practiced the custom of meeting other people., that what always seemed to them, suddenly, another thing, Something new. Let's think about the situation. Any given weekday. If possible, primavera. A pedestrian street removed from the hustle and bustle of the main roads. A gentle breeze that relieves the heat. two friends. A lively conversation. at the table, a strong coffee. short and thick. black as night. A light touch of cream floating on the surface of the cup. What is the price of happiness?, they wondered. Today: one euro and twenty cents. That's all. GERARDO LEON
