military man

[ stories from lisbon - april 22, 2014 ]

we were crossing rua augusta, my mother and i, on our way towards cais do sodre. that's where i saw him. there was a military vehicle parked by the walkway. for reasons that i'm forgetting, my mother let out a "merda," as we approached and i sucked my teeth at her, jokingly telling her to watch her filthy mouth or else i'd tell this military man in the passenger side of this tank-truck to arrest her. he must've heard me because he looked up and then smiled slightly. he whispers something in portuguese to someone in the driver's seat that i can't see. we walk along the back of the vehicle, continuing on our way, my mother and i still bickering about her foul words. i hadn't noticed the creak of the driver's door opening. there he was. standing tall at the driver's side by the door, one leg up on the step-platform on the side of the tank-truck, back as straight as an arrow. he turned to look at me right in time to see me appearing from behind the tank-truck.

he wore his camouflage well, clinging to his well-sculpted structure. so statuesque. his uniform was decorated in pins on the breast, maroon and blue bands tied around his arm that matched his perfectly brimmed beret. i eyed the trace of his evenly-shaped face, a slim pointed nose, chiseled chin and cheeks, a buttery olive tone to his skin - geitoso. i caught his eye for a only a second - big, brown, deep, looking right in my direction. i turned away in conversation with my mother, and in embarrassment, in giddiness, in fear. i wondered why i was so afraid, as if i would've seen love in his eyes or something. i think that was what it would've been, so much in so little time. i know by the breath he took in when he saw me in that second. i know by the breath i lost in it too.

we turn the corner and i try to fill in his story for myself, adding a detail with every step i took further away from him. his name is probably something like lucas, or nicolas. he must've gone to the colegio militario that i've passed almost everyday since i've been here. my mother says something and i realize i hadn't been listening to her. looking up, i see a pair of tall, slender, long-haired brunettes, model types, heading in the direction we were coming from. they were going to cross paths soon. i decide it's best to forget him now.

[ 25 de abril sign at rua augusta arch ]

[ walking through pombaline to cais do sodre ]