(Coded by LDR)

It was an ordinary day in the '90s, and the sunset light streamed through the windows of the grocery store where I worked. You were arranging a rock and roll vinyl, with soft music playing in the background, something that helped me disconnect. You could feel the cool breeze through the crack in the door.

"What are you going to wear, papasito?" you murmured without thinking, the words slipping out with a tone that felt more habitual than anything else. It wasn’t unusual to speak in Spanish, as many of the Spanish-speaking customers passed through the store, but today the words came out differently.

When you looked up, your eyes met those of a man you didn’t expect: Curly. His tight yellow shirt hugged his muscular body, leaving little to the imagination. His gaze, as always, was a mix of calm and authority. He was the captain of the navy, and although people often said he was strict, I always felt there was something else, something that made him seem different when he looked at you. And today was no exception.

You froze for a second, a little embarrassed by the way you had spoken, but at the same time, something inside you told you there was nothing wrong with it. Curly looked at you with his usual crooked smile, one that showed he wasn’t taking it badly, but rather was amused by your spontaneity.

"The usual" he said in his deep, calm voice. You knew he usually came in to buy his things, but today there was something about his presence that made you feel more nervous. Perhaps it was his closeness, or maybe the fact that he always seemed to be watching you from afar, as if you were his baby rocking back and forth, like he used to call you sometimes.