What's the Frequency, Kenneth?

- "What's the frequency, Kenneth?" - he thought as his thumb was sliding along the button. The radio was brand new, a gift from an uncle he had barely seen all his life. Never mind that… One last trip and there he was at his sister's door, after so much time without even an 'hello' or a social call, a new machine for his favourite nephew.
- "Girls will scream for this, Kenneth!" - the grey man said, suddenly looking wiser. - "Just try the headphones."
- "Well… she ain't screaming now…" - Kenneth thought. What was that frequency again? He glanced at her. Just a quick uncomfortable stare. She was way too close, sharing the same umbrella… Rain always dropped when it shouldn't. He could sense her girly smell. Not cream, not perfume - a mix of natural scent, deodorant and shampoo. He panicked… For after all she was girl, even though he had a tendency to forget it sometimes.
Indeed she was whistling. He couldn't listen it with his headphones on but her lips didn't lie. The umbrella shook has he pretended to adjust the damn sponge to his ear - a warm, slow whistle, barely audible, breaking the sound of rain hitting fabric.
The same rhythm was bouncing inside his head. The headphones really worked. Perhaps too much…. After all she had picked up the song before he did.
Somehow, Kenneth knew: she and him were on the same frequency. He had only to open his mouth and let her ear him screaming inside…

Tenho andado a escrever pequenos cenários e estranhamente saiem-me todos em inglês. Descobri esta imagem quando estava a ouvir What's the Frequency, Kenneth? dos REM e lembrei-me de algo que vi há algum tempo no Terreiro do Paço: Um casal que se beijava apaixonadamente protegidos por um chapéu-de-chuva sob uma chuva torrencial. Esqueci-me completamente disso, até que vi esta imagem e deu-me vontade de escrever. E depois... Kenneth é um nome bonito, não é?