A deep blue sky was a cause of fear. Traumatic. Maybe because whenever she pictured a deep blue sky of a silent summer, it was always with the fighter jets. Ferocious jets patrolling the blue, and dropping bombs in an array. Fragments of pictures from days of unconsciousness. It was never that much silent and distant.
So, she preferred the water. 'Water is silent... But is it, really?' she'd ask herself, sitting on the sands, wet and shivering, her half-naked body covered with grains of sands, her eyes staring at the waves – waves whispering in her ears. She had been swimming all the afternoon. It was not that she was really good; she just liked it to be near the water. She felt safe. She felt liquid. She was the part of something too vast.
The summer was really warm, it crept underneath her tanned skin. It was dizzy and dreamy. No trace of clouds in the sky. As if it was never gonna end, the afternoon. It would wind, though, once in a while. In a festive mood, it would shake the jungle of the coconut trees behind her hut and with great uproar, leave behind a trail of silence and tranquillity. And her memory fractured; pictures of her parents, her past - with each one of these. Her wounds would begin to hurt.
She melted every now and then, these days – in the saltwater. With all the warmth on her face, all the blood on her fractured skull, fading, she thought of being a mermaid. And the waters would evaporate from the surface.
She could finally sleep with a smile.
YOU ARE READING
From the Other Side
Poetry"I opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world." Poetry, anyone? It won't cost a penny, I assure you. I bring poetry from distilled tap water f...
