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Last Song Part I

Rain fell on the paved and trashed alley; the black and blue trash bins welcomed the cleansing rain. It was another typical summer rain in the City. A black cat licked his pawns under the shelter of the pizzeria place hanging roof. Where the fat owner snored the afternoon away. His long and greasy hair hugged his rounded face. Inside the pizzeria flies and turned chairs ruled the dark place. In the kitchen, the old brick oven laid wide open with flames licking out into the darkness now and then. The delivery driver sat in front of the old computer with the office door closed and his pants unbuttoned watching his favorite pop-up filled porn; big silicone lesbians with heroin marks still fresh on their bodies.

There was no sound in that old computer but there was no need for our savvy driver. He just filled the blank moans with his imagination. It was better this way he thought. And inside the other closed room there lies the most interesting person in this stinky pizzeria and perhaps in the whole City.
There Maritza Montenegro laid in the old mattress on the floor with her fingers caressing the old strings of the wooden guitar. Blind and with hair of snow she smiled into the darkness as dried her lips apart tried to sing a soundless song. Because her voice is like most her life had almost left her. She could hear the rain through the roof cracks and as the water poured into the attic. Tears would roll down her tanned and wrinkled cheeks. Memories. Too many memories the rain always brought to her like an old friend that appeared out of the mist and told her to Remember. Of course, she remembered the olden days when she was beautiful with long and black curly hair that drove most men insane. Her full lips would sing into the silver microphone with such passion and feeling that many would say an angel was singing. The lights full on her face accentuated her sharp features that many teenage girls tried to imitate but failed. She was unique. She was Maritza the Great. Of course, that was not her stage name. But at this old age, we shall let her keep her privacy.

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