All mornings, bright birds show up at my window. Their jubilant canticles light up my room like sunbeams, displacing darkness back to its recondite corners. All the habitants of my dreams recluse themselves in the oniric reflection of my vivid reality.
My eyes adjust to the light, while my logic mind still battles to discern if my nightmares were just a product of my imagination. If people had truly visited me last night. If the events I witnessed were indeed an omen of the future. And if the fears embodied in beasts haunting me, were, in fact, real.
Continue reading “Paper Birds”
The warm beams of the rising sun lighted the undergrowth that had grew claiming back the civilized soil of my backyard. I wondered how nature could chose a place surrounded by a brick-and-mortar walls and crowned with a wire fence as the place to seed life. Its depressive, I thought about how men turn the marvel of nature into a trashcan.
I sat to admire the misery of the workmanship of men when a visitor arrived. It was a crimson cardinal of bright plumage that landed elegantly on a tall branch of undergrowth and devoured the little fruits while sang a beautiful melody.
Continue reading “The Sing of Freedom”
I rang the bell and waited, but my friend didn’t open. It was weird, since his car was parked outside his house. I knocked the door three times and called him. After couple of minutes, he opened the door and invited me in.
The curtains were shut and the place had a pungent odor of alcohol and ashtray. He sat and lit a cigarette. He looked pale. It was no wonder since he was dealing with the split of his longtime girlfriend. I avoided the subject and talked about the usual stuff. We took a couple of beers that relaxed the moment and later we went for lunch. After that, I dropped him back home.
Years later, having a drink with him, my friend confessed me that the day I visited him, he was about to commit suicide. The rope was around his neck, and he was waiting for take the leap. But my stubbornness calling at the door prevented him of doing it.
I saved him… without knowing.
Continue reading “Can suicide set us free?”