Guess What?

Three day had elapsed without any events since Patricia’s return. One day I came back to the apartment from a long meditative walk, Ramon announced excitedly, “Hey bitch, how was your day? I was impatiently waiting for you. Guess what? We can go out tonight, because Patricia gave me the permission for a special occasion. My friends from Guadalajara called me that they’re in Playa Del Carmen right now and goanna back to Cancun to catch the plain around midnight. So, they want to see me before their departure. Bitch, please prepare for the night enterprise quickly, because my friends are waiting for us.”

Before we sailed out the apartment, Patricia warned me, “Shogo, please be good and watch Ramon closely.”

Hearing her remark, Ramon’s face contorted into a shameful grimace. And he abashedly assured her that he wouldn’t drink too much and would come back in a couple of hours.

We pulled in Hotel Viva Wyndham Maya to pick up his friends. It seemed to me that Ramon had resolved not to squander the precious time, because no more than exchanging brisk handshakes with them, he commenced driving straight to Fifth Avenue frantically, as though his salvation depended on it.

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