ela nome silencio

We sit at the dining room table, one on either side of the table; a game in the middle. The seeds travel from bowl to bowl, moved by nimble fingers. I stare at him, and he stares at me. We don't speak the same language and our names are foreign on each other's tongue. The game goes on, and we rejoice in our personal victories and smirk at the other's misfortune. It's all in the eyes. His big brown ones tell me all I need to know, and I can't help but to wonder what he finds in my blues. Sibling rivalry, that's what this is.
Dave comes upstairs and sits down at the table across from me, and beside Onofre. He is surprised we have started the game w/out the need for his translation skills, he is impressed. He turns to Onofre and begins to explain in Portuguese the purpose and the elements of a game he doesn't know but Onofre just holds up a long finger and says "I know".
Dave is more silent than us. The game continues. Looks and glances make up the conversation and a whole world passes between us and the game. It feels good to come together in comraderie and play a game, some friendly competition in a stressed out world.
The game ends, and Dave jumps in. Mom comes over, and they play. Dave loses spectacularly and we are all crying by the end from laughing too hard. Dave is a funny guy, and w/out him the house would be much more dull. Eventually I beat Dave, and Onofre laughs.
My eyes are heavy, and bed looks more and more appealing. I extend my hand to Onofre, and we shake. Good game, we both say. He smiles and I laugh, fun had by all. He goes downstairs and I off too bed, friends w/out a word passing between us.