lettres from another time

first day

Love can also turn back time and take you to the future. It is the most complex dimension of life that physics can never understand. ...... And so is this death, it is also like love, it always chooses those who evade it, it chooses people who do not want to die, it wants those who do not want it, I am those who need death and ask for it as a mercy for their pain, the death that will never come,

I remember the dates well and can never forget. It was the year 1945 when I met my wife for the first time. I did not know her personally. She was the girlfriend of my friend called Ava Thomas. He was twenty-four years old at the time, and I was only a few years older than him, or perhaps many years. I was ten years older than him, but we were intellectually compatible and he did not look like a young man. He also suffered from this disease, precociousness, that I suffered from, and I always advised him. To live his life the way he wanted, so as not to be old at this age, but he always said in his harsh voice, "I live exactly as I want." I don't like being superficial, and I don't like being crazy and frivolous. I used to tell him that being at this age is what this means. Thomas was the son of a wealthy man whose father owned large grape farms. There were rumors that he sold all his crops to a factory specializing in fine wines, and in this way he always maintained his income, profit, and wealth, but he was afraid that others would say that he made his money this way.
He was still affected by the fact that this matter was out of morals and law. He was a Protestant man from the countryside, and even though the ban on the sale of wine had been lifted at that time years before with the Volstead Act, I used to joke with Thomas by always saying to him, Will the Great Father leave you a few grapes to eat? Not just to drink it? He was joking with me by saying, "He doesn't leave us any choice about this, we don't eat it or drink it," and he continued in a whisper, and despite this we must pray that the Lord will forgive us because we are just selling it. We always laughed about this That day he invited me to a café called the Pie Hole Café. I remember how the wooden tables were dark maroon, and some red candles to add some calm atmosphere.

I sat there like a shy child when I saw him with a blonde woman. Her eyes were the color of chestnut, white skin, thin lips, and she was also young for his age. I greeted them only with a greeting. Thomas said as he pointed to the woman, "I introduce you to my friend Mia Charles, and this is a major in the American army forces." What he said is scary, I said while joking with her I wish I was that important, really. I'm not that big of a deal. I'm just an army soldier. She was laughing as she drank some grape wine. She looked at Thomas and said, "Didn't I tell you before to stop making things so big?" She looked at me and said, "I swear to you, I don't carry any of the wine i mean Marijuana, and we all burst out laughing. We talked a lot about the war, especially since the war had ended, and we also talked about Adolf Hitler's suicide with his wife Eva Braun at this critical time and the fall of Nazi Germany and the end of the war in Europe. We were rejoicing, and I felt excited in that conversation. I wanted to appear as an educated man enough to impress her, but everything I said about the war she already knew, and she also seemed to be an educated woman. I asked her about her job. She said, "I am unemployed." I joked with her, "We have the great President Roosevelt. We all have jobs now." The Great Depression is over, I can't believe you're unemployed, and I said it with confidence, because I already knew she was a teacher,

She said, "You are right. I am a children's teacher." I said, "There is nothing better in this world than teaching a child the right things. He will do great things." She said as she corrected me. "Rather, there is nothing worse in this world than teaching a child the wrong things. He will do great disasters." Her words were enough to make me fall. In love with her, she was ripe at this young age and was like a fruit that had ripened before its time, and I had to take it first before it fell for someone else, and so after several months she fell in love with me and we got married. We did not have many children. We had one daughter after ten years, and we named her. To my late mother, Lillian Charles Miller Hall. But Mia was still young at the time, at the age of 34, and she quickly got bored of old things. I had also become an old and old man for her. The love between us had ended exactly as she said, and she left for another city far away, so far away I couldn't go to see her or my daughter, but we talked in letters for a long time asking about my daughter, and so the years passed without me realizing that I was alone, until that night that changed everything, when I went to Alabama
Again, I decided to visit Miss Sarah Heather. I wanted to talk to an old person, because I had lost all my friends, or perhaps we had also outgrown on each other, and our friendship no longer had any meaning. I asked the port guard about the Sarah Heather ship and by chance she was having a party two days later, which allowed me to think about attending. I had time to take care of myself a little for that party. I asked him to give me her address so I could write her a letter, although at that time we could have communicated via Calling the car, but I refused because I like letters. He agreed after I told him that she was my best friend, so I sent her a simple message that I was inviting myself to this party.

Because I want to see you, Sarah Heather. I have no desire to see this party, and just as I suffer from seasickness, I hope I don't get love sickness either, but I felt like I was exaggerating and that I would look like a harassing man, a man thirsty for a woman he saw her for many years ago at a passing party, so I deleted The last part and I wrote my name at the end, your friend George Miller Hall, and I sent the letter to her. A day later, I received an invitation inside the letter, and it what was everything she wrote in the letter. As long as you call yourself a friend, you are always welcome.

At that moment I was completely soaked, and the rain had stopped. I was interrupted by Miss Mary Brooks' voice saying, "George, would you like to go back to the room? It's getting cold out here." I looked at her and wanted to tell her something that would make her think of me, that she would remember me, something that would move her heart and soul. After a moment of silence, I said, "Does the cold scare you, my little one?" I mean, I'm afraid you'll get sick with fever or the flu, she said. I laughed sarcastically and said the advantages of this age I am in are that the cold fever does not scare me as much as the fever of love scares me, but nevertheless I want to go back to my room.

And I wished at that moment that she would not push her black hair behind her ear. This is what Sarah Heather always does when I say words that she cannot respond to, and that is exactly what she did. She pushed her hair behind her ear and came towards me and was pushing that chair slowly, or maybe that is what She prepared for me, and was silent. I realized at that moment that she would care for me. I know a lot about body language, not because I know psychology or the psychology of others, but I have enough experience at this age to allow me to know when a woman is impressed by what you says. I got to my room and found that Mrs. Abigail had bought me a new mattress and it was beige. She was standing nearby, smiling, saying, "We changed the bedding for you."

I burst out laughing and said: If I ask you not to put yellow or white, Abigail said confidently, Sir, I changed it. This color is neither white nor yellow, it is beige I said, turning my head to Mary Brooks, "Is he really neither yellow nor white?" She said confidently, "Yes, sir." She used to call me "George" before, and now she has changed that as well. I said, "You are afflicted with great ignorance, blindness of knowledge, Abigail. Beige is a color that comes when we mix white and yello You have now brought both colors." Abigail said as she looked at Mary, "We apologize, we will buy you a new color of brushes, but you tell us what color and what shade you would like, and I will bring you the catalog, sir
They put me on the bed, and Abigail came out, while I asked Mary for a glass of water. i wanted her to stay in the room with me even for a few more moments. She poured me some water, I drank a little of it, then Mary said, Have you drunk? I said yes, She said do you need anything else? I said now, no, but I would like to ask you, why do you always carry this small notebook and this pen inside your apron pocket? She put her hand on the shirt and said, "How did you see them?" I said I'm retired from the US Army and I always pay attention, Just to take some notes, she said. I said notes: What about the old people? She said, "No, we are not allowed to write any notes about this. In fact, I am a writer, and I always want to write down any idea or sentence that comes to my mind. I do not like to lose my thoughts." I said that's good, then I joked with her If your thoughts are like beautiful birds, they should definitely be imprisoned by writing, but if they are bats, I do not advise you to write them. She was laughing, then I said, "Can you share with me just one sentence of what you wrote the entire day?" She said after a moment, "I haven't written anything worth saying
I said why did you write it then? she moved a strand of her hair behind her ear Then she said, well, well, you always seem to win She was feeling shy and I didn't understand why She took out her notebook, flipped through the pages, then said, "I will tell you the best thing I wrote today." I said no Rather, tell me the worst thing you wrote She said why? I said that if I like the worst of what you write, I will definitely want to hear the best of what you write She said okay, and after a hum she said The real ones and the fake ones, they are the ones we always find living among us. They are around us here, dreaming like us, sleeping like us, and sometimes also neglecting like us. But those who can be fake and liars at the same time, that they own the loaf, the books, the streets and the country as well, he boycotted it and said they were politicians. she burst out laughing I said is this what you wanted to say? She said yes I said, if this is the worst thing you have written, then I will crown you as the best writer from now on