Love in Lowercase Read Online Free PDF

sunbeam shining through the taxi window, lighting up a galaxy of dust motes.
    One thing was clear: without that saucer of milk, I wouldn’t have run into Gabriela. That’s where it all began.

II
    The Dark Side of theMoon

Epiphany
    The flu kept me in bed, faint and dizzy, for three whole days that dragged by like a long, tedious nightmare. Mishima hardly moved from my side the whole time. As if he knew the worst was over, he moved closer, purring and nuzzling my cheek with his head, saying something along the lines of: “Get your act together. It’s time you got up. You have things to do. I need food and water, and you have to clean my litter box.”
    I glanced at the alarm clock, mainly to find out what day it was, as I’d lost all sense of time: January 6th, 10:44 a.m.
    So, Epiphany today
. I tested the cold floor with my foot. I still felt weak, but the fever had gone and a gnawing hunger told me I was back on the road to normal existence. Unfortunately, this meant having lunch at my sister’s, although the flu would give me a good excuse for not going.
    A quick inspection of my apartment revealed that during my illness I’d been moving around like a restless ghost. I didn’t remember filling Mishima’s bowl, but the cat food scattered on the floor confirmed that at least I’d tried to feed him.
    After filling up his water bowl, I looked at the dining room. A note lay on the table with something scribbled in big letters. Itwas my own writing: I’d jotted down a description of my encounter with Gabriela at the traffic light.
So it wasn’t a dream
. A sweet sensation of euphoria swept through my body.
    I turned on the radio and set about cleaning the kitchen counter, which was covered with spilled broth and grains of rice, evidence of my attempts to feed myself during my illness. The notes of Verdi’s
Requiem
filled the air. I turned the radio off and checked the morning sky from the kitchen window. Just then, a sparrow flew by with something in its beak.
    I’ll have lunch with my sister.
I don’t know why I decided that. Yet, I did have a reason—a plan even—but I wasn’t aware of it at the time, as if there was a secret operations center inside me that only reported when everything was ready to go.
    What we call intuition is perhaps only the tip of the iceberg, something that has been taking shape at a deeper level. This thought was disturbing, to say the least, because it means that someone—which is to say one’s self, working in the shadows—knows about one’s actions in advance and decides beforehand what path one has to take.
    As I walked past the phone, I could see that the answering machine wasn’t flashing. I’d been cut off from the world for three days. It could have been three years and nobody would have known—just like the man in Tokyo.
    Mishima started to weave himself around my legs, trying to get my attention.
    â€œYes, I know you’re here,” I told him. “And we have Titus upstairs. We’re three wise men, but we don’t know whom to give our gifts to.”
    Then it occurred to me that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to go upstairs and visit Titus before going out for lunch. I looked at the bit of paper on the table. He’d certainly be happy that I could offer him a golden moment for his collection.

The Cosmic Slot Machine
    I gave Titus the piece of paper. He held it in his hand as if he didn’t know what to do with it and listened attentively to my story. When I finished, he remained wrapped in thought for a few moments.
    As I waited for his response, I noticed the old man’s sallow complexion. He didn’t look good at all. Shrunken inside his gray dressing gown, he seemed like a wounded animal awaiting the coup de grâce. I was about to ask him about his health when he decided to answer.
    â€œI’ll include your satori in the book.”
    â€œDon’t you