I first saw
her in a sunny day of June. She was swimming in the big Atlantic Ocean and sun
had woken up that day only to illuminate her green eyes getting out of the blue
density. She stood up looking to the horizon, like a fallen angel from heaven
trying to distinguish home in the distance. I had to talk to her, that is what
I told myself, but speaking to an angel is not any easy.
My eyes had
taken a photograph, and that photo was her standing by the sea. Unexpectedly I saw her again in a little
restaurant in a remote street of a remote village, alone, drinking a Martini
and dressing a red frock which made her curves a sinuous way to heaven.
Chopin’s Nocturne was sounding, creating
a peaceful and calmed atmosphere I am not able to describe. The lights had
conspired with her to make me believe I was dreaming.
That was the
moment. She glanced me and smiled gently; I did the same or I tried so. I
approached to her trying to transmit the security that I did not have. Once in
front, I asked her if she was alone and if I could accompany her all along the
evening. Fortunately she answered me she would be very happy to have dinner
with me, as she was alone. That was not the answer I expected. “Sorry, I am
waiting for my boyfriend”, it was definitely what anyone would have expected
from such a beautiful girl.
We started a
conversation which seemed not to have an end. We both loved Schubert, Neruda
and Pavese. She was having a gap year to write her first book and I was there
to love her, not for a long time.
In the middle
of the night she told me I should forget her as fast as I had fallen in love
with her. Next morning she had gone back to heaven and I went directly to hell.
I still
remember her unique smile and her honey lips. Now that reality, which seemed to
be a dream, is a dream. And now reality is hard to stand without her, without a
guide in the night, without that angel looking to the horizon in a sunny day of
June that stole my heart and flew away.
Marc Flores,
1st BATX A
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