Salvation in green
“I am not yours,” she thought. “And you are not mine. We just walk together. Travelers of time, until time dissolves itself. I can tell you anything. Everything.”
She wiped the sleep from her eyes.
In a place where love turns its back to lovers, in a place where humanity is an ornament on a high society wall, in a place where thoughtfulness is an epigram on a colorful printed t-shirt on a skin that is just an illusion, for those to wear who replaced their soul with a brainwashed chant, she did not feel alone. He was there.
“You saved me,” she thought. “I can tell you anything and you will not judge. You can tell me nothing and I will know. I feel free to be me. I feel free to be imperfect, while you are here, with me. I won’t tell you how you feel. I just search for my own feelings. They hide themselves.”
Behind a state of endless busyness feelings were prisoners of circumstances.
“Do not worry,” she said aloud, for both of them to hear. Although it was not necessary, because both knew.
It would happen. It was inevitable.
“We will arrive. We will stay in that magical place and we will build our house. We will make it green and welcoming.”
She was boiling some water for a cup of tea. On the table an empty piece of paper was waiting for the lines to be drawn. Lines that turn themselves into life, for those who desire, for those who dare.
“For you,” she thought, “and for me.”
She smiled. She almost forgot that she could smile. She was drawing with passion and excitement. Turning an idea into a vision, like seeking salvation.
“Salvation in green,” she whispered.
Her vision took shape. The pen glided across the paper. It felt like tickling the paper.
“Do you smile my friend?”
“Do I sense a smile?”
“You are so patient with me!”
The white slowly disappeared, making room for the lines to feel comfortable there.
You wonder how they looked like? Imagine the hull of a boat. And now turn it upside down.
