Life had been hard..
Many times he had asked himself why? How?… there had been no answers.
The worst part of the day was in the mornings, when he woke and realized that nothing had changed. Same routine.. walking along the dirty streets, looking for food in garbage cans, avoiding the police and other homeless, who would attack him heartlessly.
That night he had decided it would be the last. His hopes had been lost in some dark alley, maybe on a cold day, many winters ago.
He took his bag and the shabby cover, the only things that he owned, and went to the same place where he had been sleeping for a month.
It was a stinking backstreet, but at least empty of other souls.
He smoked until he scorched his fingers with the last butt he had and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he would go to the bridge and he would end it all.
However, in the middle of the night, he stood up as if demented. A big noise and many shouts.. but he saw nobody and the racket went on.
He took his things and ran away.. the last night had to be calm, calm as the brown waters of the river he would face in few hours…
Suddenly , his scampering stopped at a small lake he had never seen in the west of the city.. a park.. a small sanctuary…
He laid down there, but he couldn’t sleep… the fresh air, the trees moaned in the dark.. how was it possible that he had never been there before!
After the birds woke him as they began to announce that the sun was rising, when the dark faded and the green pervaded his senses and soul, he decided to delay for a few more minutes.. the river would be always there, waiting for him.
How beautiful was that place! He breathed deep, he perceived his blood warming his body. Small leaves brought by the soft breeze danced at his feet.. he took one.. how nice it felt!
Nature affected him.. made him remember his childhood, his youth. He had been happy once.
But suddenly all became dark… he heard voices, a foul air suffocated him. When he opened his eyes he was still at the same place where he had slept all of the last few weeks.. he longed to cry and he did.
Leaving his things, he ran to the bridge..
A fragile small leaf flew from his hand to the river…
He sighed.. wiped his tears and tried a weak smile.
text &image© silvia marmori
4 comments:
This is very nice... story and image... it is good with this first step in your new blog... congrats and go for it!
The imagines are wonderful, makes for a legitim profesional.
The imagines are wonderful, makes for a legitim profesional.
Raimundo
I hoped to see this photo again, and it is better this time, such a story with it, great work sil !
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