Long time no see... I've been coming and going and never writing anything good... So I took the liberty to adapt this old tale written in a time where no smartphones were around...
I used to fly along the roads with my motorcycle and now I can’t even move my hands to catch the paralysed cocoon that I observe across the canal from my confined bedroom and for six years I envied all the springs and butterflies pairing each other in this beautiful cycle of life and how I long for my own pair, a real one, not this poor old robot that makes my bed and attends to my food.
All of my family already gave up on me and I make some cash selling abstract drawings that I paint with my left foot, that for some reason, still has some movements, clumsy ones, and I guess I’m lucky that some billionaires appreciate my talent.
Overall, I am content as my room has plenty of light coming from all directions as it was designed by a famous dutch architect “light is the magical element to uncover our utmost fear”, but no light is capable of illuminating my future path as I can only see the void ahead, but as I turn, I see a glimpse of desire as a butterfly touches a soft flower going down the water and in its reflection I see him.
When I first arrived here, I was 19 and my eyes were still blurry with all the trauma, but I could clearly see a silhouette reflecting his beauty on the flowing canal and his body moved like a song as he was making flower arrangements. Later, I found out he sells hope to the world “what a dangerous fellow” or maybe I’m the dangerous one with all the stalking that proceeded on his public instagram account.
He was 2 years younger than me, had a sick father and was bound to care for the flower shop, but his dream was to travel the world and maybe we had that in common, stuck to a place knowing we could be so much more.
Time went by, and as my little muse grew up, so did my imagination of him, a little romance to warm my cold body and after so much boiling all the pressure leaded to this moment as I ask my robot to make my hair and with a new profile picture I finally follow his account and not before a beat, he follows me back with a message “Hello, neighbour”.
I thought only I could see him, forgetting how mirrors work, of course, he could also see my poor face on the water this whole time, but I am happy to message him and hours flies as I dream of butterflies coming out of a small old box leading me to a new garden full of roses.
So he tells me about the meaning of the flowers and how he loves eating lasagna with rice. Two carbs in one meal sounds too much and to my surprise I’m craving this strange meal.
Between “Time to take your meds” and “Time to clean your ass”, there is a nice good morning talk and a bed night story. It feels good to have a friend, to connect with someone beyond my physical limitations and this robot is not that bad anymore, it holds a portal to a new future, without it, I’d be a total vegetable.
“Send this picture to Angelo and tell him I wanna hear another of his stories!” and the stars today look brighter than the sun itself while I wait for his response and when I open my eyes again, the real sun is already up.
For 1 week, I saw no reflection and no updates, maybe something bad has happened, maybe he saw me, truly and now despises me the most, a broken human is not complete without a broken heart. I wish I could run, but the only thing I can do is cry and scream so loud that I see a black shadow rescuing me with a white flower “should I take it?”. I think death is near.
After a time, he comes back all black with red eyes and I’m sure his father is gone, lucky for him that he’s now free to live, to travel, to be… far away from me and we both are mourning in our own way “What am I thinking?”.
Another week has passed, I see he’s working near the window, so I ask my robot to throw a white flower in the water and he sees that and with a smile I receive a text “Sorry, my father’s gone…” and the next thing I see is a river full of white flowers like a path to the sky saying “Rest in peace”.
I feel hopeful again, we’re still friends, maybe we can become more… Days go by and suddenly all that purity becomes envy when I see him with a good looking young singer making some charm on his balcony and they seem so perfect together, laughing and talking like old friends or maybe more than that. He takes a flower and puts it on Angelo’s hair and all my body feels heavy, specially my heart “tum, tum, tum” and as Angelo’s eyes cross mine, everything is gone for months.
When I open my eyes again I see a couple alongside my bed, it’s Angelo and the singer calling the doctor and after all the explanation about having a heart attack I can look at them up close, specially Angelo, who seems so pretty with his long eyes and black hair “This is my soon to be husband Ricardo, you know, my father was against it, so… Sorry I never told you”.
After that, I had what they call “a genius phase” as all my brushes were pure emotion and I rediscovered myself on my own terms. I am today: broken, human and strong enough to keep going. A new man made from torn pieces “What does it mean to be a human if I can’t run like them, travel like them, clean my ass like them, love like them…?”
We’re still good friends and I never got the chance to try his favourite dish until his marriage, full of flowers and butterflies in a small farm just outside the city, I got to know people, despite my situation, they treated me well and when I got my first bite of the lasagna with rice, I cried “what a surprise” and once in a while I still crave it, knowing I shouldn’t.
ANGELO - THE END
Well who doesn't love a little bit of spice...
As always, with love, Erica of the Dawn.
~~~
Author's note:
I hope you've enjoyed this short story, I'm no professional writer and my mother language is not english, so feel comfortable to give advice and feedback.
More about me > https://linktr.ee/patriciamiyazima
Thanks for reading!
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