La imagen lastimada ( por ella)

La puerta se abre;

The little sign on the door has written “OPEN ”. We been walking down that lunar street for hours. The difference from our streets is that those are circular, and they never end. So we felt luckely to found this Bar. Also because we were cold. You had all ready lost the colour on both of your hands, and that was not so fun.
It seems an american Coffe, the kind you see on a Hollywood film. We found that strange, but then we realized that they ( supossely) had reached the moon first, and of course, they’ ve taken everything with them.
You seem happy, you laughed loudly, so loudly that you broke a window. No one cares. They all enjoy yours sounds, also the manager.
“Nevermind” he said, with a smile in his face.
I felt lucky to stare you at the first line, like in the movies when you sit ride on front, my eyes trying to get the entire picture, following every movement you made.
You start removing the make-up you never wear. So the cotton stays clean. Your face is shining, like if tiny stars stick to it during our walk. Then I remember that it could be your cream. Nevertheless the effect is exactly the same, and it makes me wanna stole from you some of those spots, in order to sell them on earth, and earn some money.*
It seems you are heated, or maybe you are just gesticulating. You had all ready decided what you gonna take. Im a little bit slower.
Kelly, the waitress (an old age red head, the kind of ones that have a smile stuck, forever, on their faces) takes our orders, and dissapears.
Suddenly a singer appears, there is not an scenary for her, is more like a backround entertainment. She’s singing a song, in an horrible spanish, although her voice is not that bad, it’s sort of sad..
“Pasos gigantes es lo que tomas
Caminando en la luna
Espero mis piernas
No romper
Caminando en la luna
Podríamos caminar por siempre
Si esto fuera la luna”
Above all, we recognize what it is. You feel like singing, so you get up. You are enjoying it. As everyone in the Coffe.
The music suddenly stops, the girl who sings dissapears, as Kelly moments ago.
You take your sit once again. Before we could cross any word,
Kelly appears once more. She doesn´t brings our food, neither our drinks.
Her smile its gone.
The place has suddenly become dark,. She is telling something to us.
“The Bar is closed.”
Why?
Its simple. On the moon, coffes doesn’t exist. Neither, singers or eggs, neither waitresses or bar tenders.

Neither both of us./

Y la puerta se cierra.