miercuri, 7 ianuarie 2009


He was just standing there, by the window. Those little Snowflakes amazed him with their funny dance through the cold, thin air. Everyone of them had a beauty of their own, everyone of them had their own rithm. How could they be so calm when they somehow dance to their own death? How could they float so easily to the place where they will melt someday?
He was just staring at the snow's blinding whiteness, looking at nothing. He could hear everything that was going outside: every little Snowflake was landing with a silent screech, sliding it's way to his own equilibrium point, even though he would only remain trapped there, having no where else to go. Every little bird had it's beautiful song, calling out the sun. Every leaf had a unique rustle (n.a. rustle=foşnet). Every drop had it's own splash.
He couldn't hear anything else. He didn't want to. This was the only way he could regenerate every bit of him. And he awfully needed that. Because he was broken. He didn't want to talk to anybody, just to himself. He needed to mend his ripped soul. Nature helped him a lot just by being in front of him.
The boy was so concentrated on the Snowflakes' dance he didn't feel her sudden embrace. Her skin didn't feel so soft and loving as it used to be. A shiver came down on his spine at her touch, but he didn't move. Her cold fingertips weren't as he remembered. He shook his head struggling to forget everything that had happened, everything he had heard and he had seen.
-What's the matter, dear? she asked.
He didn't answer. How could she play so inocent? His lips couldn't move just as they were glued and his throat was all dried out.
-Please, talk to me..did I do something wrong? she insisted.
-No, i just need some time off, that's all...
-You sure?
-Ok, i'll wait for you at the party then. See you inside.
He noded. But he was stuck to that window, just watching the small, careless Snowflakes. He didn't want to turn around. He didn't want to look at her anymore. All that he wanted was to forget everything and move on, just as the Snowflakes did.

...with our hearts burnt and our souls ripped, we have nothing else to do, but to move on...

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