Sunday Ochre

Ocres de domingo, a photo by ELZOCO on Flickr.

«The baby kicks»
«Let me feel ...»
«Do you feel it?»
«Yes, I feel it! His legs are strong!»
«He has taken from you ... although I hope he has dad's eyes»
«You mean your eyes ... the eyes of your family ...»
«The eyes of dad, your legs and maybe my brain ...»
«Are you calling me stupid?»
«No, no ... well but ...»
«But what?»
«I mean, I already know that on Sunday you'll bring him in this field to play ball and I'll have to look ...»
«Are you jealous?»
«Tell you what ... the next will be a girl»
«Done!»
«Is a promise?»
«You can bet»

Subway

Subte, a photo by Catársis fotográfica. on Flickr.

He found himself paralyzed in front of the doors of the train, there on the subway platform, as if undecided of the next move to take in life.
Those few seconds between arrival and departure of the convoy, seemed endless in his mind.
The light of the wagon struck his figure as a kaleidoscope of bright sacred light of the nave of a cathedral.
However, he did not observe the passengers over the sliding doors.
His mind froze in time, dazzled by the flash of artificial light.
Shortly after the train was gone when he took the staircase to the surface.

A rainbow

Untitled, a photo by Flowtopia on Flickr.

That morning, shortly after dawn, it was raining hard. Kate had woken in the room so familiar, surrounded by darkness, barely lit by the light coming through the blinds.
She stared at the ceiling, as if trying to fathom her innermost thoughts.
All she heard was the sound of the rain and thunder that had so much frightened as a child.
In those days she took refuge in the bed of her parents. Now she could not.
When later she left forever those walls she brought only the clothes she was wearing. She did not even notice the rainbow behind her.

Sonia&Marzia

Sonia&Marzia, a photo by MaMoFos on Flickr.

When Sonia left home, her twin Marzia locked herself in her room to cry without restraint. Twenty years always together, never divided, and now all ended for a trivial reason, because her father had not accepted the truth, had not accepted Sonia.

He should have, there were just the three of them. Now they were only two.
She did not see Sonia again for five long years.
Only letters, each from a different place. Letters of pure joy, exuding love and happiness.
Marzia found herself spending her empty days minding her father, closed in his silence, envying and even hating her sister, who had had the courage to reveal herself, to deal with their father's bigotry and live free, chasing her love.
The months slipped away like grains of an hourglass inexorably and marked the young face of Marzia as wounds of a war fought against loneliness that harbored in her heart broken.
Then that foggy day the car accident and death, as a liberation never hoped for, but secretly longed for. Not even having to deal with his father's legacy, who left only debts and degradation, seemed a punishment for those petty thoughts.
"Come back home, Sonia," she wrote, "this house is still yours."
But she received no answer, for long weeks.
Then one day she found Sonia at the door, her face ashen, sunken and swollen eyes. "Laura is dead," she could only say, before collapsing to the ground, there on the threshold, shaken by sobs uncontrollably, as if mourning had come out in one fell swoop.
Marzia did not know how to fill the void in Sonia's heart, but secretly she was happy because hers was now filled.
Now everything would be back to the origin, the two halves again together.
So she thought, deceiving herself.

Little Owl (Pudding) Explored!

Little Owl (Pudding) Explored!, a photo by THRASH600D on Flickr.

«Hey, why do you look at me?» asked the owl to Dave who winced thrilled.
«Then, I asked you why you look me» repeated the owl with magnetic eyes.
Dave was dumbfounded and could only reply «the owls do not speak ...»
«Here's another smart ... according to you why we should not communicate? We do normally or do you think we are born under a cabbage leaf?»
«But you speak!»
«Talk is to communicate, human ... and at any rate I'm not talking certainly in your language»
«Will you say that I understand you? I'm not Dr. Dolittle!»
«I assure you are not»

light breeze

light breeze, a photo by H2@Japan on Flickr.

Human beings are curious creatures. I watch them all the time, hectic, busy, unable to enjoy the unique moments that go and never return.

This morning my human has filled the bowls of food and water on the balcony and ran out of the house. She always leave the sliding window open, no longer afraid that I run away.

Why should I? She feeds me and when she is not particularly taken up by her human affairs she scratch me, which is nice!
So I eat and then jump out to hunt or enjoy the sun. Today there’s a nice breeze.

Ani

Ani, a photo by Amorrr Burakova on Flickr.

She went back to that beach where she had been a child and which now was so different from her memories. It was all too clean, perfect. No more joyful cries of children and thuds of balls hit. An eerie silence, broken only by the waves of the sea, hung on the wooden jetty.
Under the midday sun Ani went down to the pier and sat on the edge, legs dangling above the expanse of the sea.
She closed her eyes and while a gentle breeze went back to lick her face, she looked with the mind beyond the unseen horizon.