Invierno/infierno
Discover more from Vic Koopmans
It’s winter below the equator. Twenty five degrees Celsius are tormenting the population in the city, myself included. People are wearing tank tops, swim shorts, sunglasses and sandals. We are barely surviving.
To avoid hypothermia people drink alcoholic beverages and eat delicious warm meals. It won’t take too long before the state of emergency shall be declared.
I shiver and put on sunblock to protect me from these unbearable conditions. A final sip from my moscow mule and then I head downstairs. It’ll be the first time in a few minutes that I will have left the house.
Stepping outside is a horrifying experience. The sidewalks are not filled with frozen corpses, people aren’t screaming, there are no alarms going off and there is not a single building falling apart.
I walk inside the nearby pharmacy. The unbarred sliding doors open without a problem whatsoever. With a superhuman effort I manage to make my way through the nonexistent crowd.
Without any haste I grab numerous ice creams from the completely filled freezer and walk to the counter. The lady working seems unfazed by the horror we aren’t enduring - such a brave woman.
I pay and tell her she’ll never be forgotten. She looks confused. Must be the frostbite.
Big snow plow trucks are cutting through the layers of snow and ice, somewhere else in the world. This place is sun-drenched.
I make my way to a nearby park. There are girls in bikini and men in swim shorts, smiling. It’s even worse than I thought.
Upon seeing me, a group of girls, students, invite me over to come and sit with them. Desperate for tips on survival I accept the offer and snuggle up.
A peculiar scent surrounds them. Roses and marihuana. My god, I think to myself, they have been here for so long that they’re slowly starting to grow root.
I can tell that the joy in their eyes and the passion in their words is a masquerade for the pain inside and all the hardships they are enduring.
As birds are chirping the happiest of melodies, a perfectly timed gust of wind cools us down. I mumble the Beegees’ Staying Alive and pray to evolution that we’ll get through this dreadful winter day.
Time goes by as I listen to the native inhabitants talking about the nightlife, survival techniques and constructing igloos (might be my Spanish, though). Suddenly the pack leader places her hand on mine and tells me we should meet up later.
I look at the attractive girl in all her gorgeousness and reluctantly agree. I wish there was an other way, I wish I could decline. But I know it is my duty as a man, as a human being, to repopulate the earth.
She kisses me on the cheek and whispers some late night conversation into my ear. I sigh and look at the baby blue sky.
I shall bear this cross in silence. No one will ever know all the sacrifices I make for mankind. But as someone will have to do it, it might as well be me.
Be sure to follow: www.instagram.com/campdky