A Novel Diary- MONTH 1

The first time I meet Rafka he is pouring himself a tea of marijuana leaves, which have no drugging effect. I take a sip and it’s exactly like green tea, only fresher, just like he said.

When John moves out of the house, he has two parties in two nights, and following both I get up with a throbbing headache at 3pm. I manage to write 168 words in the two days. None of it particularly coherent.

The couple arrive, Pelu & Artur. They move into John’s room with their dog Mia. Its chalky barks in the morning are a surprisingly welcome alarm clock.

I work in the dining room, which looks onto the lounge. The worst part is the phone is right by it. Today I got fed up with the phone ringing for Rafka all the damn time. So today I answered the phone wearily;

No they’re not in.

Who’s not in?

Whoever you’ve rang to speak to

But you don’t know who I want to speak to yet.

Well it’s certainly not me, and nobody else is in. So they’re not in.

I can be a wanker sometimes.

John has gone to Jujuy to clear paths in the wilderness with a machete for a month. He says he’s going to pot smoke, man hack and brown off. He’s not coming back to Buenos Aires while I am here.

Rafka’s door is locked. His alarm clock is going off, it turns itself off eventually. I put on my headphones to work.

In the afternoon Rafka’s mother is calling him on Skype again. I know it’s her because she doesn’t ever hang up until someone answers. You’d think she’d get bored.

I read a paragraph by John Gardner on rhythm last night. This morning I wrote 22 words and spent the afternoon re-arranging them.

These were the words.

My thumb felt along the grooves and rumples of his forehead, down the slope to a wafer coloured mouth uttering soft goodbyes.

I don’t think it was worth it.

Pelu & Artur like to have the TV always on, so I decide to write more on the terrace. Dried piss makes a map of yellow continents on the white paint of the terrace floor. Nearby, a stack of poo lies like a tray of unwrapped Ferrero Rocher. Mia barks suddenly from the shade, warning me off her territory. I bark back and she helter skelters down the spiral staircase. This terrace is mine now bitch.