A HAND IN THE FOG

VI

At his home she sat on the floor, on the beautiful carpet multicolored.

He sat by her on the chaise long. He was a little bit different, maybe more tender.

She was delighted.

Touching her hair, he began to talk.

Never in my Life I believed in Destiny. I always believed that each person looks for changes or just left the years go on. Sometimes could feel comfortable, sometimes fighting for make the dreams possible realities. Other times making efforts to survive inside the line of the dreams. That was my idea of Existence – objective and simple. Then – I met you in the middle of a strange country. Both foreign. Both lonely. Each one isolated – and both looking for nothing more than nothing. And a meeting happened independent of our desires. You were there. I was there. We were at the same time into the same place. You “recognized” me by my hands. I “recognized” you by your smile. Maybe. Perhaps. It doesn’t matter. We “recognized” us. Then you changed my mind. Our meeting is Destiny.

She touched his legs and closed her eyes – as always when she wanted to feel much more than the eyes could show.

She felt his breathing – excited and calm. She smelled his skin – sweet and hot. She heard his voice – soft and strong. Her hands made the way on his body and she could draw his emotion.

She didn’t need her eyes to see him – she could see him by the strokes of her own heart.

She was in silence. His words were precious. He was so discreet and never she heard him exposes his own feelings. She was afraid to say some wrong word and the moment disappear like the meeting of a pin on a bubble. She was afraid of pin much more than the bubbles.

She was care.

He was confident.

She lay her head on his shoulders and both were in silence. The first movement after some time it was from him. His mouth looked for her silence. The night was a little cold. No fog. No rain. Just a wind entered in the room.

She was touched.

He was entire.

She was involved.

He was surprised.

He was touched.

She was entire.

He was involved.

She was surprised.

And like a tango – their body and mind answered to the Destiny – what the Destiny decided for them.

It was an unforgettable moment.

All had happened so many time ago – but for her it was like now. All the really Important moments in the life never be old or aged. Important moments do not have Past or Future – are Present. This is the magician and the value to be alive.

She went to the terrace. The sea was in front of her. Calm. Light blue. The horizon’s line was covered by fog – wonderful without limits. At this time she had learned a new lesson about fog.

The sand was so white. There was nobody at the beach – it were not the months for beach travels. The absence of so many voices during the beach season permitted her to listen the voice of the waves – and sometimes a quick and musical dialogue between some calm wave and an impulsive bird.

She loved this.

A dog alone and so fast came running over the sand and stopped in front of the terrace and smiled to her – she knew what was this advice. She smiled also back to her.

She came back into the room. The book was on the table – like in a first step of some language class. She smiled again but it was true. The book had inaugurated their spiritual meeting and the levels changed – after the book – were based on the beginning.

Always the book was near her. Like a strong and permanent symbol – from them to them.

For many times she tried to find from who was the book. Who was the partner of the Life. But never discovered and one day she decided to finish to look for. For sure the author of the inscription preferred the anonymity – she or he – didn’t sign the name.

The stories like the inscriptions are forever. And she respected this right – never more made investigations.

Touching the book she remembered the exact moment of the choice. The day at the Park. The car. The Cafeteria. The old but elegant building. She was surprised when he said – I knew you loved this author Fernando Pessoa. How he knew and she asked a foolish question – because of my idiom? He said a little bit angry – I know you much more than your original idiom, please.

She laughed.

A new code was born between them – a word – snot. Yes. He was so snot when he wanted to be. But he -never – was rude or unpleasant with her. Never. And this word was understood much more as a word of tender than a word of fight. A delicious code created by them in a delicious time of their lives.

She remembered when once he asked – you nevermore called me snot. Don’t you love me anymore? And both laughed like a special celebration of the perfect happiness.

A noise made her turn the head and the memories went away so fast.

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