P*ssy Music

Enjoy the Silence

Half a day and three locations for Flaritza and friends. Sometimes words are very unnecessary.

Inspired by the Depeche Mode song, yes; but also, at some point there's rain, and of its own volition La pioggia nel pineto came out and something odd happened, and possibly terrifying if you know the original poem; and there's so much music in it - it's an incredibly beautiful lyric by D'Annunzio, which you are strongly advised to read or, even, better, listen to, if you can grasp a little bit of Italian.

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Thanks to its utter lack of recreational equipment, sports courts or any other facilities really, that corner of Harlem River Park was relatively quiet, even though it was a Saturday.

Kids tended to gravitate towards other areas, and their families with them; so did youngsters.

There were some people relaxing on benches or sprawled on the lawn, scattered around, and minding their own business.

They were doing just the same. Lying on an old fake pashmina shawl, being lazy.

After bringing the girls to the cinema, a common weekend ritual, they'd decided to stay out some more. It was such a nice, warm day, and the last of summer wouldn't linger on forever.

Her head fell to the right, which let her see the little group not too far away, but still distant enough not to be heard in their full shrieking glory anymore - ah, bliss.

Close around them a microcosm of ants and other purposeful tiny creatures moved in the grass, visible just if you focused on the immediate foreground inches from your nose, but that was like an old pre-talking pictures movie, frenetic activity conducted silently.

"iMira! ¿No son unas changuitas?"

"Pero en el parque... ¿Se habrán escapado del zoo?" a male and a female voice had said.

"Diablo!" Juliana turned and shouted, running the few steps that separated them.

"Blanca!" echoed Isla, who had followed closely behind.

"Hey, you two."

"Hola mamis," the four adult friends, standing in the middle of the walkway, smiled at each other.

But "Heyy," Juliana protested, tugging at Diablo; she had not forgotten the previous address "We're not monkeys!"

"No?" he ruffled her hair. "Look at this!"

"Sí..." Blanca replied, "dos changuitas directly from Bronx Zoo."

Isla giggled, swinging the woman's hand back and forth.

Juliana grumbled, uselessly trying to smooth over her big mass of curls. "I'm the most beautiful girl in the whole world, just like my mom," she declared, at which the aforementioned parent smirked proud.

"Children always speak the truth," she whispered in an aside to Blanca.

"Oh really?" the Dominican's brows lifted to Maritza. "And who said that, Juliana?"

"My mom." Flaca's eyes rolled.

They'd all got ice cream and walked, or jumped, and hopped, and bounced around while they finished it.

Then the girls had found some other kids with a ball to play with, and Blanca and Diablo had offered to supervise them and give their friends a bit of respite. Those two big softies loved children and were finally seriously trying for one; but before a baby came, they didn't mind the casual practice. And there they were now, Blanca occasionally scowling and frequently laughing along with Diablo, who sported a serene expression at the proceedings of whatever made-up game Juli and Isla & Co. were at.