Mix Fix Story
Ballroom 2050 by Pablo Rubio
“The band is playing our song again,
And all the world is green”
Tom Waits The sun was setting, leaving the empty streets
in darkness. A man, wrapped up to the eyebrows, -The next song is dedicated to our dear Rita. For was the only figure walking through them. you, Tango Apocalypso!
His quick steps, because of the cold and the The aforementioned Rita, staggering on a bench belief that he was late for his date, led him to a because of alcohol, made a funny outburst. narrow alley. There, behind a heavy wooden door, The new year emerged as a ritual to end the was the “Malena’s Ballroom”. solar cycles, to bring about better harvests or As he entered and stripped himself of all layers to symbolically celebrate the birth of the son of of clothing, his cheeks turned pink, although his God. eyes still glowed as they had done hours before. For centuries, various cultures have modified He looked around, but could not find who he the first day of the year based on their calendar was looking for. Sighed in relief, moving slowly and rites. through the dance hall. But if there was something special about that All the inhabitants of that small eastern city had December 31st, it is that apart from the end of gathered in that singular place, for a celebration the year, it would also be the end of humanity no less unique. and planet earth as we know it. The man sat down at a table at the end of the floor, and before Scattered here and there were: bosses sharing that tango and the glass of cognac were over, huge carafes of wine with their workers; moth- she appeared. ers looking tenderly at their children, whom they were uselessly nursing; couples of teenagers During the 30 years that they had not seen each melting into embraces, which at any other time other, he had made a daily exercise of rememwould have been seen as impudent, though now bering her curly hair, her olive-coloured eyes and they were becoming acts of survival. her childish smile. On a platform, the orchestra was standing: a -You haven’t changed a bit. saxophonist, an accordion, a guitar and a drummer; dressed in white fracs and with their faces -Like this place. It’s painted like old circus clowns.
The man approached the bar and asked for a co-
gnac to make the wait more bearable.
44
still as decadent as it was then.
she said.
