Archive for October, 2015

A HAND IN THE FOG

                                                                          XXIII

Sometimes the phrases arrive before the concrete idea.

Sometimes write phrases or have a thinking seems to be just words on a paper or random ideas.

And the Future blinks for demonstrate that it is not absolutely blind.

She was in the end of the afternoon – after hours and hours working with no time to lunch or to drink water. It was one of those hard days that the Universe must help the brain and the body to be alive at the end of the day.

But – job is job and must be well done. She did her best – as always. The day was cloudy and a little bit cold. A so soft rain made her feel a little bit quiet.  In some moment before left the room – she looked out of the window behind her. Suddenly – and without understand why exactly – some specific memories came so fast.  It seems just if the memories were there just waiting for the moment that she would finish her job. Or just waiting the free time that she would look at the window – as a play.

Who knows how strong can be a memory.

She remembered the Island – la Grande Nave Veloce and the dark blue sea – and also the Castle. The beautiful Castle they were together and the tourism that they did by bike in that so far city.

She almost could see his face when the lady opened the door of the Castle’s suite. She could see his smile – he knew she was amazed.

Then came the bike’s memory. The bike was white.  It was winter and she was with a black coat. She almost could hear his advice: so many time without drive a bike you will have so much pain in your legs tomorrow.

She had no pain. And they laughed and enjoyed together her safe legs.

Both memories came together – even separated by the time. She smiled – a new discovered. The memory doesn’t care the time – or the space separated for the time.  She could feel all the good sensations on her skin. And a surprise about those memories: in one it was in the summer and the other it was in the winter. And both came together – almost in front of her eyes – like a movie in third dimension: a film inside a film inside a film.

Memory is so simple: or it is good or it is bad – can hurt or can caress.

The geography or climate is just part of the scenery – but not the protagonist.

She smiled – the branches may be in any direction – to receive sun or to be in shadow – but the root is only one.

This is memory.

And at that so fast moment – the memory brought the caress.  It was a fragment of the time – but the sensation it was like a lightning – and the thunder echoed inside her.  For half a second she tried to understand why she looked at the window and those memories came. But she knew that the answer – perhaps – would come later.

She turned her head – closed the door and went away from the job.

But a little bit before close the door – she looked again out of the window. And felt so warmish and said the word – yes.

She thanked because only her was still in the job at that so late hour – someone could listen this – yes – for the window and make terrible judgments about her health mind.

She smiled.

The time. Yes the Time. It always makes its own play.

In the sequential moments the answers arrived.  A message came. I will be with you during 20 days – I will land in the early morning. We will enjoy the parties together. I bought just now the flight tickets.

She stopped the car to read the message again – and again – and again – with calm. Probably calm it was not the right word – her behavior after the message was very far for being described as calm.

She couldn’t believe. He would come.

They would be together again. Another time was coming with smiles and pleasure. And he made as always – a surprise. Then she realized why the memory of the Castle and the Island came a few minutes ago. Why an almost hallucination came suddenly. Why the time and the climate were mixed in only one root.

Fantastic.

She came back inside her self because of a horn. She stopped the car in front of a garage and the poor man wanted to get out and waited for her finishes the – one hundred times – lecture of the message. For sure he was a so polite man – or maybe he thought she was a crazy woman and was fearfully careful. He was a wise man.

She looked at him as just had awake – excused smiling – and went away back home.

After the message – she didn’t want to do anything. She didn’t want to work or to write. She just wanted to lie begging for time pass quickly – faster than the time of his flight.

And began to organize – first her self and then the meeting.

The meeting was easy to organize – but inside her self for days and days all was in state of happy celebration.

To be concentrated that always was so instantaneously deep – for now it was a job harder than the job itself. Many moments during the day she made the check in and checkout and sequential count of the days.

It was funny – first because she smiled from herself. Second because – when she told him – he also smiled from herself. There were two persons – smiling for the same person – her.

Molto divertente.

One night she woke up suddenly in the middle of the night – frightened because an horrible storm. The strong thunder and lightning seemed be almost into her ear. In an attempt to calm down she wrote a message for him – maybe it is not the end of the World but maybe the end of this City. I am writing just to say – yes I pretend you are here close to me and I hold your hand.

She looked at the calendar he had given her and that was on the table: today lack less than yesterday. Soon he would be in fact close to her.

She concluded that if the Future is not blind – it is not also myopic.

And she nevermore repeated that phrase.

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A HAND IN THE FOG

XXII

It was afternoon.

She just came back from her hard job. All home was in silence. And she was mute.

Maybe for all her life she was mute and in silence – of course until the concert’s evening.

She began to organize her next day while waited for his call. Every night he called her. She was there listening music and just waiting for him. She loved this.

Separating clothes and papers she remembered the evening in the park – when she saw his hand disappearing in the fog. She remembered the book. She remembered the first time she saw his landscape.

She didn’t know if the Life is constructed by metaphors or if the metaphors construct the Life. Not an existential problem, but a no-solution problem. It doesn’t matter if one or another situation happened in fact – if someone thought – it was happened.

So much time has passed since their last meeting.

She remembered how was difficult to come back. Say goodbye to him it was one of the most cruel moments that she had to live. But she made a big effort to be – or to seem – strong. He hugged her also sad and almost ordered – do not make any effort to pretend be strong – I know exactly what you are feeling.

He was sure.

She began to remember the trip when they were sat at the airport. Remember sometimes helps – because put the Present cloudy. She learned this when she said goodbye to the dark blue sea and thanked also it companion. Gratefully. But in that moment she needed really for help. Memories. Smells. Photos.

They were hugged and in front of the board way – he kissed her. And she went to the plane.  Remembering that hard moment – alone – she suffered with the same pain of that moment when they said farewell. Before cross the corner – she looked back. He was there saying goodbye. A kiss.

And her first poem came back inside his mind – again.

I cry for your absent hands/ I cry for your present back/ I cry for the clothes on the hanger/ useless and meager/ I feel the warmth of the tear/ that run down calm/ disguised/ slow. I cry to know I am.

The truth was in the last line.

At this time she thought in that poem by the end to the beginning.

I cry to know I am / disguised slow / that run down calm / I feel the warmth of the tear / useless and meager / I cry for the clothes on the hanger / I cry for your present back / I cry for your absent hands.

The truth was in the last line.

The volcano. The dark blue sea. The cockroach. Each detail had a space in her memories. His shirt hanged on a bC ruins after washed because of an act of a pigeon. Her smiles and laughs. His jokes. His smiles. His decided style to cross the streets. His elegant style in the restaurants. They lost on the maze road.

During fifteen days she had to decide nothing. For the first time in her life she had absolutely all the confidence in a Man.
He decided all really perfect. He decided all that he knew she would love and celebrate. Above all – or below all – he knew her deeply.

She knew him discreetly. She decoded him – but of course didn’t want to be invasive. She knew that he hated be questioned or pushed against a wall. He appreciated the noise when the noise did not disturb. She smiled. This was his right description: personal philosophy.

A part of him was in silence inside himself – and he just broke the silence or perhaps the muteness when he felt that could share. She enjoyed and loved his elegant way and style.

One morning he made one of his jokes. Please – can you write my biography – it would be sensational – I would be described as a perfect person.

And she answered so calm – but you are perfect person. And both laughed. The morning began – as she usual said when they were together. All the mornings woke up with smiles and smells.

For days and weeks – after came back to her routine – she felt some different – as she was not landed. She was there. Or better – she knew she was not there – she wanted to be there. And the line of the desire and the reality seemed be deleted. Or clouded. And she understood the true meaning of missing – or the true meaning of distance. A confused sensation that made her feels as in a limbic space.

For days and weeks when she walked she looked at her feet to understand the space – to understand the place. She went on trying to be strong and to live the Present – as the Present needed to be lived.

And it was – at that time – the feet that made her come back inside her again. Once a long time ago – she recorded – that were the arms that made this same job. But it was a Past of the Past – a long time ago.

So it is true – the body sometimes helps the mind. She concluded and blinked to her image at the mirror in front of the place she used to talk with him. Va bene. She wrote a short message to him – the words and the numbers are similar when the account is correct.

Suddenly she heard the recognized noise. She jumped fast – It was he calling her. She smiled happy looking at her feet – and landed – for a while.

Outside the window – it was dark. The night became to close the day and the memories. And they became to talk as the Geography was nothing. Nine thousands, nine hundreds and forty-three kilometers were cloudy – for a while.

Thank you Universe.

But – the Future sometimes can be myopic but never blind.