Historia / QUIERO LEER
QUIERO LEEREnsayos: QUIERO LEER
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Enviado por: gennepd 30 noviembre 2013
Palabras: 2056 | Páginas: 9
“Awake, dear heart, awake. Thou hast slept well. Awake.”
“Louis, I get the feeling you’re not listening to me.”
Louis grits his teeth, letting the air out between the front two with a tiny hiss. “Whatever makes you say that, Nialler?”
He’s got the phone wedged between his shoulder and his chin in a phenomenally uncomfortable position, but his hands are full of bags. Serves him right for trying to get all his shopping out in one go. The fact that he managed to answer the phone at all was kind of a miracle.
Niall snorts on the other end of the line. “I’m just saying, I had an idea while I was worrying about the first read-through.”
Louis is not worried about the first read-through. Louis is not worried about anything other than not dislocating a shoulder or accidentally jostling a Japanese tourist into the Thames. He’s not sure why he decided to cross Tower Bridge during lunch time in June. He might not be from London originally but he’s spent enough time here in bits and pieces that he feels a connection with the place, a familiarity that sets him apart from the tourist hoards.
But then, he’d willingly walked into a part of the city that, with this nice weather, in this holiday season, is an absolute nightmare. Amateur mistake.
He ducks around a couple having a make-out session in the middle of the footpath while taking selfies, and narrowly avoids running into a group of Australian girls photographing a toy chameleon on the bridge railing. Weird.
With a jolt, Louis realises Niall is still talking, and Louis hasn’t been listening to a word. He sighs heavily into the receiver where it’s sandwiched under his chin.
“Niall,” he says loudly, cutting his friend off. “I’ll be there in ten minutes, and you can lambast me with your woes then.”
Without further ado, Louis lets his phone slip from being held in place on his shoulder and slide into one of the shopping bags. He hadn’t managed to hang up on the call, but his ph
one is a sensitive soul and presumably something whacked the ‘end call’ button on its long journey to the bottom of his haul. Either that, or Niall can continue his conversation with Louis’ new aviators.
Freed from the effort of not dropping his phone, Louis begins to weave more skilfully through the milling crowds, making it to the other side of the bridge in one piece. Freed from the worst of the throng, he meanders along the banks of the Thames happily, enjoying the brisk spring air and the smell of the waves, eyeing up the overpriced pubs and optimistic wares hawkers. He’d only got into London yesterday, but it is already sinking back into his bones like it owns him. It’s a dirty, big, overcrowded and overpriced monolith of a city, and Louis loves it to death.
He loves the expansive - if expensive - underground, the open banks of the Thames, the tawdry flash of places like Oxford Street and Leicester Square. He loves the rusty charm of his Stepney flat, and the bakeries in So ...
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