sábado, 1 de maio de 2010

A dream to die. For.

So he brought her a high cliff. Turned southwest, where dolphins swim by and seagulls restlessly fished. There, were the sun had never set his bed to sleep, they’d seat for hours. Not for any special conversation (although it had been a nice place for a wedding proposal), not for particular silences, not for the saddest or happiest days. No. That was a place just to be. No bitterness or high excitement had ever been felt in that step between life and something else. Exception made for that single day when she ordered him to lay down on the grass. She, then, pulled the bridge out of his pocket, waited for a strong gust of wind, raise her arm up in the air and let the cards flew. How amazing, even if for just a moment, to see her face filled with joy. There goes the queen!, she said. He suddenly opened his eyes and, after the tinniest moment in which he allowed himself to enjoy the view, his heart overflowed with anger. Not my cards, Anna!, he shouted. And run for them. At the time he’d got to the king, the queen had already been submerged into the ocean. No more games were to be permitted between them, she concluded while fearlessly threw her body to the sea. Then he took his shoes off and jumped in, saving his queen for an ever after happy life together.

com A pele que há em mim, Márcia
Aqui

Papoila

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