Stormy Weather

It was raining cats and dogs in Buenos Aires. Literally. It always rains cats and dogs in Buenos Aires, and it inundates the streets. Especially the one I happen to live in, so its fun to see how cats and dogs fall over the edges of the road at first, covering the drains systematically. Its then turn for the rain to fall, heavily, like it doesn't fall anywhere else, almost like someone with giant buckets of water was throwing them at us with anger. It is fun until I realize that I have to be part of that apocalyptic scenery to start the day. At first I felt reluctant to leave my shelter. I schemed excuses in my head. But everyone else was facing their responsibilities, I had no special excuse to be exempt from swimming to work.
I turned to open my "rain closet", where I keep an umbrella, a pair of rubber boots, a diving suit, goggles, an inflatable boat and an inflatable vest that I stole once from a plane. I didn't take the boat that day, I figured that everyone at work would take one too and the closet to store them would be full. The last time this happened, we all got them confused and many of us couldn't find our own. I dressed myself in normal clothes, and wore the diving suit on top. I also decided to wear the goggles.
Leaving the apartment building was hard, again. I couldn't open the door because the water pushed it back inside. All the tenants had agreed to change the direction in which to open it but none of us ever got to it. So every time it rains it takes a long time to struggle against the door until it is possible to open it. When it actually is, water runs inside the building's hall, dragging along some cats and dogs.
This time I couldn't open the door and no one seemed to be around to help me. I kept pushing it but almost a meter of water had already accumulated. I was too late for work and frustrated, so I decided to stop pushing and wait for someone to help me. I saw a family rowing to school and work, lots of people swimming, a woman making her way around by jumping from bus roof to bus roof and a man sitting peacefully high up on a tree contemplating the whole scene. I wished I could just sit like this man, to watch the whole world go crazy and waterlogged.
When the old woman from the 2nd floor joined me in the struggle to open the door I was already two hours late for work, so I dived into the watery street and swam as fast as I could. This was made difficult by the vast amount of boats blocking my way.
No one at the office seemed to care that I was horribly late, they were all concerned with their own issues. Rainy days posed an inconvenience for all of us, and especially this day water kept falling uncontrollably from the sky.
Everyone at the office made me fuzzy, so I left, deciding to make the best of the city under water. I swam along the most crowded streets, witnessing various discussions between people that didn´t even seem to know each other. I got to the bridge next to Facultad de Medicina and sat. Avenida del Libertador was a proper river by now and cars looked rather picturesque floating around, smashing tree tops and buildings.
The rain stopped and the whole city was beautifully quiet.

Monsters under my bed

I used to check systematically for monsters under my bed. Not a night went by without me telling myself that I wouldn't bother kneeling again to take a quick look. I though to myself that I never found any monsters, that I was just going on my knees in search for something that I would never find. I tortured myself every night before going to sleep, begging myself not to repeat this senseless ritual.
Some nights I would get into bed without checking, and sleeping was impossible. I would toss and turn for hours, realizing that making sure that there were no monsters under my bed was the only way for me to get some sleep.
I guess it was fine for me to feel the need to check "just in case". The problem was: what if I actually found a monster under my bed? What did I expect to do? What was I going to say?
This went on for years and years. Even if I had had the most exhausting day I could not resist from bending and looking for something hiding under the mattress. Until I saw someone. And it was no monster. As a matter of fact, she was not even close to being one. Under my bed, the most beautiful woman in the whole world was smiling at me, and with that smile I froze. All those nights of looking for a horrible creature that would threaten my life had lead to finding a beautiful woman lying on the floor and smiling at me! After staring at her for what felt like an eternity I stood up dizzily and pinched myself to make sure I was not dreaming. As I didn't seem to be sleeping, I said to her: "Um...hi...I'm Greg. Wanna come out of there?" I heard no response, so I went on my knees again to find the floor under my bed empty like any other night.
After the disappearance of that incredible and surprising sight I could no longer sleep. She could be there while I was unconscious and missing the chance to get to know her. I spent millions of nights awake, waiting for her to make a new appearance. My tendency to check under the bed for monsters became a more preoccupying one: I was now willing to find someone, someone that had now shaken up every aspect of my life. I didn't sleep anymore, I barely worked. My life revolved around the event of finding that woman again and knowing what had brought her there.
After a year of constantly hoping that she would show up again, proving that she must had had an interest on being there in the first place, I lost my faith. That exciting event that had changed my life and beliefs was probably not meant for the simple guy that I was. It must had been a mistake. I had to go back to my normal life or I would be sucked into an obsession that would lead nowhere.
I overcame with time my tendency to look under my bed. I try not to think about the fact that she is probably there, laughing at the fact that I succumbed into an obsession after seeing her for a few seconds. I try my best to forget about her and move on with my life. After all, if she ever decides to visit me again, she knows that I once cared enough not to sleep for countless nights thinking about her. She will maybe come out and we will meet again.