Miracles and Cigarettes

It was just another usual day. I was thinking about the meaning of life and such as I carried on with my daily activities. I left my friend’s place around midnight. The guitar was missing a string which however did not prevent us from having a good time as we do every time we get together. It’s amazing how little you need to enjoy a summer evening.

I’m running. Running for it like crazy. We all know how tedious it is when the bastard slams the doors in your face. Off it goes and you just stand there swearing and spitting fire from your nostrils. ‘Not gonna make it’, it crosses my mind. ‘But running is good for me’. The door closes, and I am still 10 meters away, keeping the hope alive. A girl on the platform sees me, turns around and pushes the button. Once. Twice. Three or four times. Abrah kadabrah (note to self: find out which language the expression come from and the history behind it). I am right by the door. I thank her euphorically and hop on the tram.

So maybe I’ve been going the wrong way about it. Sometimes random stranger’s kindness and thoughtfulness is sufficient to keep the faith alive. Perhaps people are not f’ckes as I so relentlessly tend to claim. Not all the people at least. People surprise you in a pleasant way as well as they disappoint you. Balance.

Home alone. No more cigarettes. A beerful fridge. Down go two bottles. No more cigarettes. I go to explore the building I live in. They say it’s awful that we don’t even know our neighbors. People don’t talk to each other anymore they say. But what is even more sad is the fact that I don’t even know my own house. I walk around in the garage and decide to take a different route back to the flat in order to spice up the night. I get into the elevator in one of the wings that I never went to. And I get stuck. This is ridiculous! It’s 2 o’clock in the morning and I can’t get out of the elevator! This is preposterous and it makes me mad mostly because it is such a cliché! I thought I was better than THAT!

I push the button with a yellow bell on it. A voice answers. He seems bored. I thought he would be happy I called considering his job. And suddenly the door opens. A tall lady walks in. She explains to me the special features of the elevator and I’m back home. I’m saved by a stranger again.

The air is fresh. That’s one of the miracles of the night. Go for a walk then. A man and a woman outside a pub. I hate doing this. Even though others often ask me. ‘Excuse me do you have a cigarette?’, I approach the guy. I never ask women for cigarettes. Somehow I always think I have a better chance asking a bloke because men are easy that way. He looks away quietly and the woman speaks up. ‘ You can have one. It’s my last one but here you go’. I hesitate. It is her last one after all. I want to be a decent thief, like Robin Hood. ‘Are you sure about that?’ I ask. ‘Yeah go ahead. Light?’

I pause by the entrance door, finishing her last cigarette. To become a saint you need 3 miracles they say. I look at the church tower on the opposite side of the road.