There it is

Sometimes it rains

when there are just stars,

you get drunk

with just one glass of wine,

you fly between the clouds

you draw as a kid.

Sometimes a remote control

without buttons to press,

a faraway song

that you don´t want to listen,

a dust particle

shining in the attic.

Sometimes a whisper

is the wind from the hurricane,

the waves taking you to the place

you always wanted to be.

Sometimes as delicate

that marks the skin,

as hypnotic

that appears in dreams.

Sometimes you just have to talk.

Sometimes there are no words

to say the truth.

Confession

Sorry, excuse me, yes... well... I need your help. Just a moment. Aaah... this may sound weird... it will be just a minute. Could you hold the ladder?, I´ll go through the window on the first floor. No, I mean, don´t think badly of me, I´m not going to steal anything, no way, I mean... you´ll laugh... this... is my house... yes, my house, I left the keys inside. I usually call my husband... but the mobile it´s also inside. You know? I always left my parent´s bedroom window open just in case. The ladder is always in the yard... No, it´s not the first time.

Oh, right, thank you so much... You can come another day and have a coffee... just... please, don´t use my method to go inside the house.

The big day

In a delicate twist of his wrist, he took his watch off sliding through his fingers. He put his hand in his jacket pocket without checking the exact time. He didn´t drop it.

Arthur walked over the withered leaves of autumn in a city that the birds seemed to be banned.  He shuffled trying to fill the silence. The wrinkles on his face framed a hard look and a foreign smile.

He observed how a black car was getting closer to the main entrance of the cathedral. A woman with a long white dress got off. Arthur could almost smell her happy nervousness. A jacket-clad man gave her a hand. While the car was moving away, the two bodies that Arthur was concentrated on, crossed the principal portal without admiring the beauty of the building.

Arthur left his watch at the end of the pocket and grabbed his wallet tightly.

To and for me

Do you know when colours are so bright that is painful but you still open your eyes? Do you know when you are shower by the rain, pretty sure that you´ll catch a cold, and you are even jumping on the puddles even though you didn´t when being younger? Do you know when you are exercising too much but keep going for a while knowing that you won´t be able to leave the sofa in the afternoon? Do you know when it´s just you, breathing deeply, feeling the air going through your body, you smile and could spend hours like that?

This is not just about how intense it is. This is not just about how much I enjoy fighting with the muses. This is not only related to the need of writing this same idea with different metaphors. I wish it wouldn´t be that easy. But this is me and what I want to be, to discover and learn.

It´s great when there are others to listen to you, but sometimes the best audience is oneself, and that´s the one I´m looking after right now.

After a while

A corner with delusions

forgotten,

the roaring of a storm

that is still so far,

the absolute chaos

in every crossroad.

Then...

nothing.

Other hands interlaced

remember us the silence,

a hammer hitting

over the resignation

which knitted

our weakness.

What do you want me to do?

Nothing.

We are the failure

of a missed whisper,

gazes

in exile

of dreams,

the naivety that pushes us

to the abyss of the blame.

There´s nothing left.

You want to fly again,

having back the postcard

from that eternal travel.

We touch the moon

and the hell right after.

The wings would be ripped

in a moment of insecurity.

You are...

No ash,

no pain.

Nothing.

The sailor

His boat was still moored in the port. The lights were on although the sun was shining for several hours. The bed was made and his clothes in the wardrobe. Everything seemed in order, even his diary was on the desktop next to the maritime notebooks. There weren´t pages missed, nothing related to mental health issues or problems with anyone. The money was still saved in a cookie jar with some papers where he was writing his exchanges and the evolution during the last five years. It was updated the day afternoon before. There wasn´t any special expense and the amount was precise.

Marianne was the person in charge of the investigation. She resolved it in just two months making even bigger the legend of the sailor.

There wasn´t blood. There wasn´t a single sign of violence inside. And still, absolutely no one was able to see him on the deck and vomit, scream horrify and need medical assistance. He wasn´t really known in the village but what someone did with his body, made him unforgettable for the whole region and further on.

The seamstress

Amelia used to sit on the wood bench to patch up the trousers. She did it after hanging up the washing and put the yellowed clothes on the lawn to recover the original withe colour. She sat down at noon when she had already prepared the lunch and cleaned the bedrooms. She darned the clothing before his husband returned from having a flat of wine and pick up her grandchildren from school.

Amelia took a needle and thread when the birds stopped singing and rested over the wall to sunbathe getting sleepy. The woman sewed when the wind stopped blowing and the water was stuck on the small river. She always observed how the ants were transporting big pieces of food before checking that no one was looking at her.

Amelia left her stuff over the rough wood and closed her eyes. She had to wait a few seconds. Her capacity to concentrate in teleportation was becoming worse with the years. She visited her other family quickly, told them about the main events on The Earth, and calmed down the eagerness of the impatient ones.

Amelia returned just on time to thread the needle and finished the last stitches.

If they catch you

The hunting is in the middle of the night. You open your eyes and stretch your legs. You feel the cold sheets. Your breath is not heavy and you don´t understand why you are awake. You can just hear the deep darkness. You turn your head and find its body.

Try not to look into its eyes, there are nets that you can never escape from. Try not to scream if you want to keep your voice. You don´t want to get closer but your feet are already walking.

Choose if you want the battle or the distance. Do not smile over the fence if you know that there must be spines in those flowers. Don´t get rid of yourself if you believe in the moon. And if you think that there are stars still shining into the shadows, you should learn that only the fire will be ready to take your hand.

Observe the abys, you already know that it is the walk where lives your hired insomnia. Hug the time. Hug the smoke and the ash.

If you feel its breath, you are under its arms. Your muscles will freeze. You´ll touch a little knife going down by your glance. You´ll swim at the lake in winter and run in the desert in summer. You´ll find fire on the icebergs of silence. You´ll try to stop the rain. You may even see the sunset while the blood is flowing on the beach that afternoon. You don´t want to move but are already wearing sport shoes. It shouldn´t be a stone but a beautiful gift. Look for the mirror which will carry you to the night.

Laugh, the exit is getting closer. Accept it as a talent and leave the arrows stuck in your skin; the ice will turn them into swords. Find yourself. Find yourself even when you are running out of energy. Find yourself!

Reach its back, never the soul. It won´t disappear. It won´t kill you. Touch it. It will give you the poison to deal with the hurricane and the life drops for the sunset. Don´t get too much closer and don´t try to forget it. Feel it, but not on cloudy days. Love it and then, get back to your skin.

You are looking again at your ceiling while your fingers are traveling slowly through the wrinkles of your sheets. You turn your head and sigh. Just your body and a bunch of frozen time.

Recovering our belongings by pieces

I can´t think of the time we had in the house in the middle of the forest and close to the sea as a bad time. Was emotionally hard, of course, but we couldn´t do anything and so trying to enjoy the place.

This was the third week of January and we didn´t have jackets nor towels. The coordinator of the volunteers brought us some board games, we cooked together and had a TV for the first time in our time in the UK. We talked a lot about what we were experiencing, about our feelings, and what was still supposed to come (if a pandemic hadn´t come).

On the second day, they did an urgent washing with some of our clothes but, as we were seven, some received underwear, others a towel or the jacket. So we decided to share our jackets and have all the opportunity to go out of the house. Of course, I went to the beach for a walk.

We also had some visitors from our organization. All of them were bringing some boxes with our staff already disinfected with the bedbugs products. Everything was mixed in the box so it was like opening Christmas presents: let´s see if I well behaved and have something. Every day a new gift and every day someone looking after us.

Then it was also time for Flavia´s announcement: she was going to finish her volunteer placement earlier than she should. Not a tragedy but sad to say goodbye.

On the second day, someone from our organization came to pick Sabine and me and going to the nearest village to search for a laundry in order to wash our clothes. We spent over four hours using six washing machines and five dryers. We didn´t stop a second and still there were four more full bags left when it closed. But most of our clothes got clean and everyone had something. We went back home and put all the clean ones in the living room. We had such a big mountain of clothes and lots of fun. And you may say, hey, this is so stupid situation, why are you having fun?, and yes, you are right, but when you don´t have anything, it´s better to turn it into laughs. We all sat down around the mountain and started to separate it. Pants, t-shirts, and swimsuits flew everywhere. As there were more beds than people were there, we put our clothes in the ones that no one was using, turned them out into our personal wardrobes.

One of our four shoe shops ;)

We also received all our shoes but were still wet because of the product they used to make sure no bedbugs remain alive. We put them in the corridors close to the radiators. It was like a shoe shop.

And so the days went by watching movies, writing on Lenka´s blog in our own languages (and getting angry with the keyboard of her Czech laptop because we couldn´t find the letters to express what we wanted) and doing little trips around the area. Not that much but all we had. And that was great!

Flooded body

This here inside

was born from the fire,

grew up with the bones,

slept in your chest

and woke up in the silence.

This here inside

strokes the stomach,

climbs up the throat

and hangs stuck

on each word.

This here inside

whispers in your dreams,

scarfs the fairies

who were curing your wings

and catches you again.

This here inside

wants to be a shout,

jump the walls

and remove the coldness

from those silver eyes.