I hear a somewhat distant murmur:
—Celeste, turn off the music; it’s late, and we have to go out tomorrow.
—Okay. I check the time—it’s 11:10 p.m.—and drift off to sleep.
—Celeste, get up,my mother says, entering the room. She opens the window, and the light hits me right in the face.
—Okay, I'm coming. Just a little longer, please?
—No, get up. Get ready and come downstairs so we can leave," she declares before walking out.
I get up and take a shower. Afterward, I pick out my outfit: Bermuda shorts, a T-shirt, and sneakers. I get dressed, tie my hair back in a ponytail, and apply just mascara and lipstick; I’m ready. I organize my purse and head downstairs.
—Finally.
—i didn't take that long," I tell my mom.
—Well, let's go,she says.
She is very methodical about her shopping, so we had to stock up on supplies for the house that day. We headed to the nearest supermarket, a half-hour drive away. After parking the car, she asked:
—Do you want something to eat?
—just some tea is fine.
We stopped by the café; she ordered tea, and I ordered coffee. When we finished, we went to get the groceries. I grabbed a cart for the items, and we spent an hour shopping; we paid and then headed for the exit. My mother went to get the car, pulled it up closer, and we loaded the bags. Just then, she said:
—oh, I forgot something.
—What?
—The chocolates. You can stay here if you want; I'll be right back.
—No, let's both go, I insisted, and we went back to find them. We entered the shop, and she bought some dark chocolate. On our way out, we ran into a friend of hers—a very lovely woman, by the way. While they chatted, I told my mom I was going to walk around the aisles for a bit. She nodded and told me to be back in half an hour. A moment later, I crossed paths with two guys. I recognized one of them, as he had come into the shop to buy lunch; I had never seen the other one before. He walked past me and said "hello," but it all happened so fast that I couldn't reply. I felt an attraction unlike anything I had ever experienced. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye and smiled; it wasn't an ordinary smile—it was something more, something tempting. Just then, my phone buzzed. It was my mom, letting me know she was already in the car waiting for me. I walked over to the car, got in, and we drove off.
On the way, my mom mentioned that we were going to stop by my dad's place. I told her that was fine, since I wasn't working that day and had nothing else to do. The whole drive, I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened in the aisle; something deep inside me knew it was *him*—a silent hunch. It was pure instinct telling me this wouldn't end well. The terrifying part wasn't his proximity, but the fact that he was a complete stranger. My mind held no memory of him, yet my body reacted as if I were facing my worst executioner.