A moment of reflection in the bar
Sometimes life surprises us with situations that seem taken from an absurd comedy. On one such occasion, I decided to escape the pressures of work and relax with a good whiskey at my regular bar. With the glass in hand and a cigarette lit between my fingers, I plunged into the familiar routine, stirring the ice cubes as if they were worries I wanted to leave behind.
The escape of the smile
In the midst of that quiet moment, I realized a disturbing loss: my smile was gone. It was as if an essential element of my being had evaporated, leaving behind an unbearable void. Empty-handed, I found only a battered two-dollar bill in my pocket, a reminder of a better day.
The dance floor as a scene of loss
Thinking about the origin of this loss, I remembered the night before, when the music and the bodies moved in a frantic dance. The image of a brunette walking away, with a dismissive gesture, hit me hard. That moment was etched on my face, transforming my smile into a sardonic expression that haunted me until that moment.
The desperate search
Needing to get my smile back, I turned to an unconventional solution. I asked the waiter if he could leave me his smile, a gesture that sounded odd but seemed like the only viable option. Despite his kindness, the result was not what he expected; the blonde at the back table avoided my gaze, and I realized that the borrowed smile wasn’t enough to regain the human connection.
A look in the mirror
Desperate, I headed to the bathroom to look in the mirror. There, the truth hit me: my attempt at a smile was crooked, loaded with hypocrisy and falsehood. He had no choice but to face this image and its unpleasant truth, as he had no alternatives.
The lost and found office
On the way, I stopped at the lost and found office. What they offered me made me laugh bitterly: broken hearts and forgotten joys, a collection of feelings that no one seemed to want. None of these treasures could replace my missing smile.
An encounter with the Philosopher
Finally, I confronted my creditor, a character known as the Philosopher. His bad attitude was evident, and my lack of resources didn’t help. Before I could escape his heavy rhetoric, I snapped, demanding that he leave me alone. In that instant, the world around me began to fall apart.
Reflections on the irony of fate
Now I find myself in an absurd situation, with a smile that is not mine, a reflection of someone else. Life, with its cruel irony, has made me the protagonist of a comedy in which I have been the blessed one. Reflecting on all of this, I wonder if we can ever truly get back what we’ve lost, or if, in the end, we have to learn to live with our losses.
