She asked him why people met, he replied that to learn something from each other. In that very moment she knew he would become a special person for her.
The first time they met she needed to tie a slipknot. She asked him to do it, he didn't know how. The look in his eyes, frank, clear, deep blue. By a cosmical coincidence they both had decided to travel to the same islands on the same ship, on the same date.
The next time she saw him he was in a rickshaw in Madras. She spotted him when it passed her by on a sidestreet. He looked different this time, distant. She thought she might had been wrong.
She was excited. It was going to be her first long journey by ship: 3 days, 2 nights. Everybody had told her to take loads of pastimes because in the ocean the hours seemed everlasting. She only had what she always carried along the way: her little black book with her poems in and a book. The English Patient.
She got herself settled in her cabin and went outside to the upper deck. There he was again. "You made it!" She said with a broad smile on her face. They sat down at a table to share a drink.
She can't remember what they talked about. She only remembers that was their first drink together. There would be many more. He made her laugh. It felt warm, close, familiar.
They spent the whole day together going up and down and around the ship. Meeting people, playing cards, laughing.
He had a harmonica. He would play and she would walk at the rhythm of his notes.
She can't remember when she first missed him but it was already on board, probably lying in bed, at night.
He had a chess board and a bucket full of ideas and jokes. He would talk and she would walk with her feet a palm above the ground.
The first time they met she needed to tie a slipknot. She asked him to do it, he didn't know how. The look in his eyes, frank, clear, deep blue. By a cosmical coincidence they both had decided to travel to the same islands on the same ship, on the same date.
The next time she saw him he was in a rickshaw in Madras. She spotted him when it passed her by on a sidestreet. He looked different this time, distant. She thought she might had been wrong.
She was excited. It was going to be her first long journey by ship: 3 days, 2 nights. Everybody had told her to take loads of pastimes because in the ocean the hours seemed everlasting. She only had what she always carried along the way: her little black book with her poems in and a book. The English Patient.
She got herself settled in her cabin and went outside to the upper deck. There he was again. "You made it!" She said with a broad smile on her face. They sat down at a table to share a drink.
She can't remember what they talked about. She only remembers that was their first drink together. There would be many more. He made her laugh. It felt warm, close, familiar.
They spent the whole day together going up and down and around the ship. Meeting people, playing cards, laughing.
He had a harmonica. He would play and she would walk at the rhythm of his notes.
She can't remember when she first missed him but it was already on board, probably lying in bed, at night.
He had a chess board and a bucket full of ideas and jokes. He would talk and she would walk with her feet a palm above the ground.
She didn't want to arrive in paradise, her paradise was right there. She could sense the end. She was crying helplessly inside. She wanted to yell at him: "Let's go down together" but she didn't manage to let it out so she stayed on board forever. In her own private paradise.
No comments:
Post a Comment