The Breakfast


Everyday, Alina gets up at 6.00 am. She opens the window, even in winter, because she likes to feel the first fresh air of the day. It gives her strong enough to formulate the goals for the coming day. This represents her favorite time. She’s alone and free, and she plays with her will. During the breakfast, her father is still abstemious, her boss can’t order to her stupid tasks and her friends didn’t call, asking for her precious time.

For Alina, the breakfast is the best moment of the day. She prepares a strong coffee and puts in front of the mirror. The image of herself varies each day but never is sad during the breakfast. Is the only moment where she feels as human, conscious and part of nothing. This act represents a kind of ritual. She puts off her pajama and, naked, stands in front of the mirror. Her body is beauty, full of curves. She has a few marks around her waist, perhaps due to the growth. Her bubs are big, but the weight of gravity did not make falling them. Her skin is very clear and her veins can be seen, randomly distributed as a climbing plant, over her body. She has a lot of spots, but the funniest ones are located on her cheeks. Her eyes are touched by the time and the first traces of maturity adorn the corner of her lips. She is very close to the thirty-five but still is beauty and pure. Now she has her cup between her fingers and drinks the liquid curiously, like a kid, quickly, noisy and without pause. Today, her throat didn’t cooperate properly and the coffee leaked out of her mouth. The drops run over her body, as water that irrigates the green veins over her fertile body.

The coffee is finished, the fresh air crisps her skin and the alarm sounds somewhere over the room. The breakfast time ended. But now, she’s ready to face a new day of the modern life.

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