S. was young blood, fresh air and all this kind of stereotyped shit. Nineteen years old and nineteen years younger than me. At the time, my last girlfriend and I had just split up and I felt a little hopeless. So it was very easy to fall in love with that newcomer workmate. S. was not only young but pretty, a really cute angel with brand-new wings. Unfortunately, she was always talking about her handsome boyfriend, their trips to the mountain on the weekends making barbacues and stuff like that.
S. used to come to my desk to take the stamp of the agency once or twice an hour. I was the person in charge of keeping the stamp in good fit. To top, I had to go after the stamp when my workmates forgot to give it back to me. This sort of repetitive deeds forges our daily and sad reality, but we are always hoping a miracle, a sexual miracle at least. But miracles are for believers and I only believed in Billy Wilder (as Fernando Trueba said Oscar in hand).
However, the miracle began to crystalise when S. changed the pace of her visits to my desk. Now she came four or five times an hour. At first, I thought she was mocking me. But one week later I noticed she watched me much more than the usual.
One night I had a dream. I could see S. naked in the toilets of the office. Se was laid on the cold floor, pointing at me with a sensual finger. Her long painted nail was a scorpion's tail inviting me to go for a dip.
I got undressed and one minute later fell down upon her. I could notice her tiny and tender breast below me. Suddenly I realised that my lips had stamped kisses of ink on her whole body. Then I knew she would always be mine.
Next morning, S. didn't go to work. At the end of the day, someone called to the office and said that S. was dead. She had been found in her apartment totally naked. My company's name was stamped all over her body.