|Share stories they asked, yes, no, I dont know, well maybe… but I’m not a story teller, he was. Oh yes he was. I never admited but fuck it was sooo long when he started… ! Never ended, I liked to listen to him though, sharing his adventurous life, saying how deeply he loved his family and friends, how stupid they were sometimes, so sorry. I loved it and hated it too, just like him now… I wanted to leave and come back hours after, just to hear the end.
Blablablabla (*sip of whisky*)… humm (*thinking* – probably trying to remember where he stopped, but with style) …. Yes, so humm… blablablabla, and hummm, well you know… blablabla… (*stopped*) :
– « hey, senorita, do you have your tobacco, can I roll one ciggi ? », he said with his whiskyish voice, hoarsed.
– « of course, buddy, anytime »
– « mer.ci, beau.coup », smiling with his eyes squint.
Just wanted to tell him, “- let me roll it for you so you can finish your story MF ! “
Haaaa fuck me and my impatience, but fuck you too ! What about now ? I wish I could still listen to your stories right now, listening your unforgettable laugh, you nasty Santa Claus ! Asking me for a ciggi, I was a bit disappointed when you came back from Canada with your own rolling tobacco… And finally, leaving your cutie smally friendly Cosy Lodge, letting you sleep, putting your blanket on, turning off your stupid speaker, squeezing your still on fire cigarette from your hand, kissing you good night, turning off the light, and closing the door… “Hasta mañana” he would have said
My memory is full of stories with him, I remember how he recognized me for the first time in the street, just landing somewhere close to the main road, how he hardly squeezed my back and how impressed I was about this guy, like something is different with him, probably something is wrong ? I mean, when I met him, their friends, presented him to me, like he was the guy who only react when you talk about pussies ! But fuck, I loved you, I will never stop, and look now who do not stop either talking ?
I could continue hours and hours speaking about you… but its hard, it makes it too real… I don’t want to listen to your stories anymore, I don’t want to hear the end…
I miss you so much, you MF ! I’m so grateful to have had you in my life, for all that you brought to me… thank you !
Tabernacle, Love you Grampa <3