| S knock inti. Only the third call took to it. It was the postman, always. He was wearing worn jeans and was wearing a cap that so amused her, "look like a poet," he said with affection. "Good morning, the postman said, praising how beautiful she looked lavender. She looked at him with tenderness, it was so I knew him and he replied grow like "weeds " my dear Michel, as he thought that a few weeks ago came the gardener. Noticed that your roses need of pruning, and the vine grew disorderly and lewd. He stood a moment looking like lavender threatened to flourish as each year, bringing with it the scent of memories.
- T blot a letter for you, "he said, rather a postcard said.
L to take in his hands, he wondered about the role of the stamp. As he signed the postal receipt she seemed to hear a tune that rocked background, as if transported to another time and another space. Shook, saw dazzled in front of the fuzzy label obituary. The feeling of being suspended in time paralyzed. Did not even say goodbye to Michael, just saw him disappear by that little road of lavenders that had looked so much love in the nearly ten years.
S and sat in the doorway. It was a little cold, not too ... She felt mistrust, some concern to have that piece of paper in his hand, throw it thought in burn if redeemed repented and garbage. For years he had received countless letters she cheered on, each recognizable by the letters, the stamp, the sender. His mother, his children, his good friend, always, an occasional fellow traveler's letter to Javier religiously every month. But this time was different, something told him that was different ...
T itubeó a long time, music with him.
E phone l sounded intense and long, but she was absorbed, ignored its echo. The possibility that the postcard out of that love, after so many years, was disturbed. The letter did not recognize the sender and not the letter. Could bring this gift of life after so long. " 're beautiful, I invite you coffee." That tune came to his head with a resounding clarity. After nearly ten Aprils assumed that I had forgotten. But he surfaced from the center of the soul, magically, so insurgent and rebel with the mere presence of that postcard stamped in his hand.
- And to is - you said, and opened it.
L eyo postcard, "... my love, despite years of wills, I'm still waiting for the dizziness pass and the sun shines every morning ." She took hold of that piece of paper as the roots of the tree to the ground, pressed it against his chest and stared at the air.
U na sad little breeze of wind touched his body. A sadness for what has not lived for the past that had not had this option, the cowardice, murmurs have missed those that could be a lifetime. B USCO between disks cast aside. Much time had passed without hearing the music. Several years earlier he had kept that sweet story in the attic, only had on hand a couple of albums "neutral" as he used to call them, those that sound good but do not engage with the soul. It took a while to find the one he wanted, put it on and chose the second topic.
E call woke up crying.
P yielding a cigarette. The dream was beautiful, like almost always real, had the left hand post. It was not his old love but Javier and said "I miss you, this place is wonderful, can you come?, Give me a sign, kiss, Javier". decided to return to sleep, I wanted to find the dream in sleep, to hear that song again, as so often link with that love, but do not get it ... it was not possible ...
L to room seemed small, choking, the sky seemed lower overwhelming. thought that was a bad idea to paint the color of lavender. On the wall, where pictures of his daughters lit his days there were only traces of those nice moments. Had ever been to this small village where he had loved, needed summon images that would prevent sweep forget that love, and then took photos of the place. These photos have a place inviolable in those walls.
S and put restless, decided to get up.
E n the kitchen, while serving a black coffee without sugar, do not know what to do with tears stuck in soul. Went for a walk, was long hours enjoying the pleasure of the street, people, children in the square, and thought of Madrid. Finally he proposed a crazy Javier worthy of consideration.
R esolvió call. After all he was the only one who had always loved all the time and she was fond, very fond. Javier had been his confidant many times, he would understand everything, he thought, understand their pain, accept it and also willing to show the city, theaters, parks, museums. Addressed the wonders of imagination that could come. The desolation began to dissipate, to be collected for another time.
- H-wave, was heard across the phone, "Javier am I received your postcard," she said, - I want to see. Javier felt a certain calmness came over her body, she rose from the feet to the hair of the head and was installed in the soul, with a chill.
- to And I'm waiting, as I have done all this time, "he said.
E call came to Madrid three days later, with a couple of bags, wrinkles on the face and the decision to stay for a long time. He was certain that Alice did not interrogate her eyes full of memories, their souls stuffed with aimless travel and dreams that sometimes brought with them the past. |
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