I feel like the walls are coming down on me but I’m too bored to go for a walk. so since I don’t have the luxury of a porch or a balcony, I compromise with an open window facing some flowerbeds, a building, another building, some more buildings, oh! and there, there, up, a little piece of night sky. standing with a glass of wine and one million thoughts bursting in my mind. and here she comes. it’s the third time this month. she comes and stands right under my window meowing ballsy.
- what? what is it?
- meow!
- what do you want?
- meow!!!
- ok! ok! wait… here you are.
she eats.
- meowww!!!
- oh! so you like it. here’s some more.
after she eats the slice of turkey, she licks her paws and cleans her face. she then lies down.
- ok, now you are happy!
- meooow.
she lies there looking at me, watching around, then looking back at me. that look in her eyes… hmmm… yes… yes! I’m pretty sure now. I know her! and she knows me. the smell of the grass. the hot summer breeze. the sun beams passing through the tree leaves. yes! now I remember! I met her last July in Cherry Tree Wood! I was there wondering – waiting for an illusion that never came. she happened to passing by and sat for a while keeping me company. she was a cat again back then.
- so! how are you? it’s been a while ah.
she meows as I talk to her. and I have lots to tell. about that storm inside my head. people, faces, eyes, mouths talking, me listening, me talking… no, rather imaging what I should have said. the prison. the sun. G. laughing with our stupid jokes. me laughing. oh God I miss her now that she’s far. me walking, trying to become, trying to be. K., anger, sadness. no hope. T., the lines of his face, his eyes, his smile, my heart beating. pain. fear. hope? my mother’s voice, my father’s look. the past. mistakes. blessing. me, same mistakes again, me, wavering. life… life… LIFE!
- what will the future bring? eh? eh cat?
- meow…
the walls the walls are coming down
the here and now is coming round
it will some day let you down
the ships the ships are coming in
the great ideas are wearing thin
there is nothing left to do
Fanfarlo
Fanfarlo
