Talking to Ourselves: A Novel Read Online Free Page A

frontier.
    Why is it that suddenly, without having decided to, we begin noticing younger people? Observing them with a certain nervousness ? Why are we tempted to attract their attention, to display ourselves surreptitiously in front of them? What do we hope they will avoid? What do we want them to give us back?
    Any woman who thinks this is a problem restricted to men, very well: she is probably naïve, a coward, or a hypocrite. I have women friends who fit neatly into all three categories. Until one day, when they least expect it, they leave their bald husbands for some other man.
    I can’t help but admit that I, too, am turning into That. The thing I didn’t want to become. I should have been fully prepared. I had seen it in books, films, in my neighbours. But that couldn’t happen to me. Yet it has: I am starting to mistake beauty for youth.

Mario
    … testing, testing, let’s see, is this piece of shit working or not?, testing, tes, well, it seems to be, getting started is difficult, breathing is a bit of a struggle sometimes, but the main thing is to get started, isn’t it?, like with Pedro, after that, well, everything speeds up, I’ll explain, bah, can I explain this?, you’re at your grandparents’ and you don’t know why, we’ve sent you there until the end of the holidays, I’m meant to be travelling, we talk every day, I try to sound cheerful, am I deceiving you, son?, yes, I’m deceiving you, am I doing the right thing?, I’ve no idea, so let’s assume I am, I prefer you not to see me like this, we can’t tell you what’s going on now, what is now in any case, if I don’t even know when you’re listening to me, will those mp thingamajigs still exist?, or will iPods seem as old-fashioned to your kids as my record player?, formats disappear just like people, hold on, is this thing still recor—.
    And at the same time I’m not sure, do you see?, I swear I’d give my life to, how ironic is that, I’d give anything to know what’s going to happen to this lie, what you’ll think of me when you discover it, you’ll have a few photos of me, I hope, and if so Marioyou’ll look at them sometimes, won’t you?, but I have no way of seeing you, I mean, will you be a nice guy or a rogue?, or will you be nice some of the time and a bit of a bastard others, like the rest of us?, and, you know, I try, I really do try to figure out if you’re going to look like me, not too much I trust, for your sake, and part of me is desperate for you to grow up now, and another part of me is scared by how fast you, I mean, for you time will also, well, and I spend hours inventing a face, a height for you, but not a voice, I can’t do voices, it’s strange, I make up bodies, but I remember voices, and I can picture your back, your nose, whatever , your beard, you have a beard?, I can’t believe it.
    Let’s say that with you I’ve had good intentions but not much initiative, I fooled myself into believing I was waiting, waiting for you, for instance, the last few summers you’d been asking me if you could go with Uncle Juanjo on a delivery, he suggested it, he told me, but your mother and I were never sure, we thought it was dangerous, or not right for your age, or heck knows what, there’ll be time, we said, we thought there’d be plenty, and suddenly , or not so suddenly, there wasn’t any, that’s why I had to do it like this, in such a hurry, I had to create this memory for you, your mum was against it at first, we argued quite a lot, I was feeling better, and you know those trips, the ones the travel agency was supposedly sending me on?, well, I was staying with your uncle and aunt for a few days, until I had recovered a bit from the side effects, then I came home and did the best I could, your mother, it goes without saying—wait, someone’s coming in.
    Once I quit taking the poison there was a, like a kind of illusion , I had mornings when I was elated, I got up and thought: I’m cured, then the