Alalay Fiction per Chance - Land of Snails turn 4

When Pelón arrived Joselito had not thrown the dice yet. Joselito was talking about his adventures. He had gotten beaten three nights before, that was why his nose was swollen, he also had bruises on his legs and back, and rasmillados on his hands. He also mentioned that he had made a bunch of calls to his connections in high places, and that he had gone to the forensic and everything was set, the changuitos who had done that to him were to pay for the clinic and medical expenses, and that his doctor friends would refer him to a clinic of some other friend, and that there, besides curing him they would do some plastic surgery to make him look younger; and all those bills would be given to those changuitos or their parents. He was dying of laughter but it was apparent that inside he was very angry.

Joselito was about to turn sixty one. He was strong and resilient, but two boys beat him and abused him. That was as if reality had slapped him, made him feel like an old man, near the point of receiving the bonosol for the elderly. That made him feel that for him it was too dangerous to go around from bar to bar looking for the whore in turn. That feeling was what bothered him the most.

Joselito was divorced twice, and had twenty two years without a formal mate, he was an old bachelor, a happy bachelor. Everyone loved him, and his friends respected him and appreciated him, and everyone continued calling him Joselito (little Jose), as he had not aged at all.

As soon as he saw Pelón arrive he forgot his tales and said quite energetically and good disposition:

We are not alone, we are not alone, are you alone Peloncito? Look at this, look!

He repeated to the crackling sound of the dice in his hands. Joselito did not like to use a goblet, he only played using his hands. He used to say:

So they come out how you want them you have to touch them, feel them, they are like women.

He continued shaking his hands until he deposit them on the table, softly as if they were a bouquet of roses.

- So you want to battle, eh? Single hand poker! What do you all say to that, eh? He wrote it down, being that he was the score keeper. Between the clash of the glasses and the habitual salud! a new atmosphere was taking form, something unusual was happening. In only four plays both teams were racing for the golden panza, three single hand throws and a big one. That did not happen every night. It is possible that all would have love problems, but for all to do well at the game? That was not right, in the game there is always a winner.

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©Huáscar Vega