Mutation

We were resting. It was like a retreat in the province, only the mission was to celebrate the success that supposed to have went to the right direction. The rooms had no boundaries, but the inconvenience of it was noticed. We were in the lounge, I was sitting by the wall facing the usual companion by the window. Feeling rather excited in our repose, he wanted me to take pictures of him in his position with my camera; so I did. Then he decided to take pictures of me as well and borrowed my camera. That notion was a routine no matter how I change the setting.

An unusual companion entered the room and declared that she needed to defecate to the bathing room, by the side of the door. She hurriedly went in only to be stopped by some usual companions with the reason of bathing being more important than what she was about to do. It was also common sense that there was another rest room where defecating was more accurate. She opened the bathing room door, indifferent, and proceeded to where the smaller rest room was. I had a feeling she was indulged with the inconvenience for the boundaries weren't existing.

The bathing room was large and dull, but it looked expensive and sophisticated. The lights from the candles were shining shyly. There were two bathtubs filled with water. The water was all over the place, but it projects an extremely calm ambiance. There was a fountain and as we stepped in, we stepped on water. It was pure; so we started to undress.

A usual companion placed himself to the bathtub filled with water. Seeing he was entirely huge, some water literally flew out of the tub. The scene was not bizarre. The other one sat on the edge of the other tub, scrubbing her arm. Her lips were so red with lipstick it was unbearable, but I knew she had the potential. I was only standing, observing the phenomenon as I let myself get wet with the clean water all over my entirety.

Suddenly, it was time to go home. Unfinished with our cleansing, we dressed casually and went out. The night was clear and the stars were beautiful. It was a formal habit to eat before we go on the road. We sat on a small terrace, enjoying the luminous night, talking incoherently. I brought my camera; it was hanging on my neck. I did not use it in the moment.

We saw the province boys walking in line, carrying drums in front of them. They were hospitable enough to have this little celebration equivalent to their welcoming. In the right time, they started playing and created sounds. It was the start of the ending of the celebration. I wanted to go back to the room for my bathing was incomplete; I did not want them to sense my filth. I passed through the province boys until the rest of the group started to come out of the room. The professor got mad that we did not follow the protocol of going out all at the same time. We were taken by the flow, the calling of longing and goodbye to the province. I ignored their passing as I had no choice, I just have to go back in.

They retreated to proceed to the destination of the festivity as I and the usual companion who took pictures with me entered the room. The province boys followed them. I could not bath anymore so I just applied cleanser to cover my filth. We passed by the terraces onto the little huts where we were supposed to eat. Instead of seeing everyone, we saw another usual companion lying on the grass by the side of a hut, as if enjoying herself in her thinness. I asked her if she wanted to pose for a picture. She smiled and sat up to pose. I took pictures of her as we drifted away to the moment. Another usual companion went back from the destination to check us out. I remembered her standards were high. We submitted to our current being.

The night went brighter and reversed back into the falling afternoon. The four of us went to sit to where everyone else was and turned our backs on the water. Everyone was facing each other. We were like in a small cemented bridge. A bald middle-aged man sat on the center and started singing into the wild. We sang along, celebrating. I remembered I brought my guitar with me, but it was in the room. A usual companion of mine, who was practicing it the whole time we were in the retreat, happened to brought it along with her as we sang. She said that she had been practicing the tabs for the song we were singing. She learned it over our stay and I had not learned anything. Feeling ridiculous over my predicament, she started to stram, but the bald middle-aged man initiated a new song. This time, we both did not know the tune that goes with it and she stopped holding the guitar. An old man sat beside me, the usual companion who discarded the guitar on my left, and grabbed the guitar. The attention of all went to the famous old man who was proud. He said he was going to show a new technique he developed, playing with the chords. The night was back. Just before he hit another melody, pressing the thickest string too hard, it broke. The guitar was broken and it was ignored. I felt sad.

To kill the remorse, the usual companion decided to share the pictures we took a little earlier during the day. He developed his pictures and showed it to us gaily. It was bizarre though, for the provinces are usually not affected by the intrusiveness of technology. His face on the picture showed the same, but the background exposed the otherwise. In one of his pictures, where he was reclining on his right shoulder while holding a spoon and ice cream on either of his hands, there was a ghost of a girl. The girl seemed to mock what he did. We grew frightened. In another shot with the same position, the ghost of the girl mutated herself. Reclining in the same angle as the usual companion did, the ghost of the girl developed two faces; the other one was connected to her chin, upside down. The frequency of fear increased. The last one showed the ghost of an old middle-aged man's face. It seemed as if the ghost was startled of the flash that the camera did. In transformation, the ghost had two faces; it's as if the face was doing quick nod it produced too many variations. It was like a multiple exposure, despite the digital nature of the camera. I did not want to develop mine.