Yellow Room. Lei fully dressed that cradle on that wheelchair. Her hands are still on the PC keyboard. Word. Blank page. Write something but deletes it. Bring lip overlap less than the upper one. Ring the phone. Irrelevant answers. Fiddles with the ring. Basta. You decide. You light a cigarette. Mouthfuls long. Tear down the ashes. You hang up. You turn. I'm sitting a few inches from you. On that Latvian daily redo with care. And forgive us every time in two years that doll you've never understood that animal. Definitely not a fox. I carefully put back into the pillows every day. Maybe not to scare away the memory to which you cling more and more every day.
We find ourselves staring at me. You have a serious face that seems worried. You sit a bit 'further down on the chair and raised his arms. And smile. I smile ... She looked to ground and a little trinkets' head. I see your lips slowly unfolding and the air is full of your voice.
Night. The house is silent. The windows are put in only slight wind noise.
is your scene. It's your place. It seems you did wait a long time. You seem to have studied every detail.
speak and tell me stories that I could never see, because I was not there. Why did I was looking the other way. And laugh, amused by your stories. Tell me about eleven years of your life without jamming. Without missing a word or an accent.
I am still. Astonished. And I cry. I cry in silence because I do not want to interrupt your flow of words that pours over me. On my eyes.
seems like you're turning around a problem. For something that you can not say. But I feel the same.
Your voice is warm and safe, loving, passionate and serene. Strange quest'aggettivo give a symbol of all the evil you've been through. But it's the only word that suits you.
You stand and begin to walk around the room. You make me see things, show me the photos. And keep talking. You're rescuing these eleven summers of silence in one night.
And then you get to sing the tunes of popular songs, the ones that have accompanied you in life. You rubbed your eyes. I fear you are tired and you want to go lie down. But it is not. You sit next to me and continue with your story.
Tell me about your past. Of what it was. No mention of the future. There is no time for that. And your eyes are full of hope when I talk to the scouts. It turned into tales of satisfaction when the theater. In fear when you speak of your illness. They become nostalgic when you talk of your best friends. It is filled with pain when you talk about Nicole.
Then ... all Suddenly I see only love. The real and sincere. Pure one. What you knew even existed.
The dawn is approaching but I did not sleep. I still have time to listen to.
Because I missed you when you were not there. And now I understood that I was not me who was looking for. But you were looking for me. And when he saw me, you were afraid to face all this. But, my child, did you understand it. Running away from problems and insecurities are not growing.
You have been able to put in front of blacks and white keys of your life. We had seen a thousand times to try. But every time there were too many buttons. And you were saying that a piano has keys and keys that begin ending. They are eighty-eight and nobody can be wrong.
But the keys of your life are many more. And every time that you played one, and another appeared.
And then you said you sure you were sitting in the seat wrong. That that was the piano to someone else. The big boss, for example.
On this night have been able to crush those rectangles blacks, creating the most beautiful and heavenly music that will ever exist. The music of your life.
You are forgiven.
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