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Two. Eva Forte
Читать онлайн.Название Two
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9788873046783
Автор произведения Eva Forte
Жанр Зарубежные любовные романы
Издательство Tektime S.r.l.s.
I changed my haircut, I am more careful about my outfits, and I try to be always cleaned up even if I am going to do the shopping down the street. In other words, I love myself more than ever. I do it for me and now also for that morning look that waits for me in order to start the day together. Then we immediately separate to leave room for the mystery of such a special ‘non-affair’. Between me and my mysterious he it is the opposite. After the first eye contact and the awareness of a mutual interest, it all stopped to ‘nothing has to develop’. It almost seems to me that I am always going through the same day and on one side this gives me a great safety and peace of mind. I know that sooner or later it must stop and maybe it will also disappear the interest in a look that doesn’t lead to anything. But now I don’t want to think about that and I enjoy that something that gives me a thrill that gets me through my day with a smile on my face. Today we are leaving the café more charged than ever and tomorrow is going to be another morning full of tells to hear and of looks to wait for. Our day starts that way, even if all the enthusiasm for the good sunny day ends up in the usual cold and musty counselling centre room that we manage to get after many efforts, to be able to work on our laptops having at least a
chair and a table to lean on. Today is the birthing classes day, so at 9.00 AM the hallway is already crowded with women with gymnastic outfits and marked baby bumps. There are women who caress their belly and other who are looking for a place to sit down and relax after the first backpains. Most of them are handing a bottle of water in one hand and a towel in the other. Many of them already know each other and so there is a whisper made of tips and opinions, who is living more or less the same moments that are going to result in their biggest change, giving birth to a brand-new creature who will reflect them at least partly. Many of them have seen their body change, letting themselves go, while other seem ready to a maternity runaway with the latest fashion clothes and hair and nails always perfectly done. We get always across the room with a bit of distress, almost trying not to disturb the big group of pregnant women ready to listen to the midwifes who are there for them. Finally in our room, we close the door behind us with a sigh of relief, even if with a bit of bitterness and desire of staying in that room one day. It would be nice to have a baby simultaneously in order to face it all together. We hope so, even if it is not the most probable and easy thing of the world. Our office is gloomy and I miss that beam of sun that I left at the entrance. Every season is the same here and except for the great winter cold and the warmth of the summer, we could easily not be able to distinguish which period of the year it is. When we come out at 6.00 PM, it is terrible to enter with the light and then step outside when the dark has already set in. It almost seems like having lost a part of our lives between paperwork and statistics not so useful to our existence. After a while after our arrival, the silence falls on all the counselling centre: as
soon as the class begins, the future mums are completely taken by breathing exercises and birthing gymnastic in the room next to the entrance and in the distance you can overhear the dim voice of Anna, our favourite midwife who leads women in the most beautiful moment of their lives with her soft and gentle voice. Therefore, we can start to turn our laptops on and try to get some work done, as tomorrow there is going to be the meeting with the delegate of all the counselling centres of the area who wants to have all the login information completed with demographic statistics and names of who performed services in the last months. As soon as the laptop is turned on, the image on the desktop leads me inevitably to dream for a few minutes.
Out of the blue, any noise that adorn my life disappear and I only live in my mind with the memories relating to that picture. I took it, any character is on the scene, but I know who is behind the camera and this makes it even more special and unique, with a meaning that will be well-rounded only for me. You can see a beautiful valley almost as endless that its termination blends with the sky at twilight. Red leaves of trees and the meadow that starts to turn golden until that night light that shows the red sun and the moon on one side, which shyly embraces his hours of the day. Anyone, any animal, any noise, but a sense of peace and calmness that only such kind of pictures can give. I still feel my hands on the camera and the look lost in the lens for then going back to the other side and getting lost in the endless nature. The door that suddenly opens brings me brutally back to real life: a new face looks out and for a second we ask ourselves who could it be, until we discern a conspicuous belly and we understand that it was a straggler who entered the wrong room. I accompany her and I take the
opportunity to get some fresh air (I don’t know why, but today it feels like I can’t breathe) and to call Carlo, since in our room there’s no signal and make a call becomes an unedifying undertaking. A few minutes and I go back to the room, I want to have the job done to avoid being trapped here until late.
CHAPTER 3:
The daisy of Villa Borghese
Tired from the beautiful outdoor trip, I finally decide to come back home and work a little bit in the calmness of my four walls. I’ve got an awful number of emails in arrears and I want to work on the last photos shot for too long. I must also submit the work done a few weeks ago: collecting in a few shots the sea life after summer holydays. I’ve decided to develop all the pictures in black and white, colours that reflect a lot the mood you can be in when you find yourself in the sight of a big expanse of salt water when the good weather has stopped. Yet it gives me a lot of power to go to the seaside in wintertime. I’ve been there alone, leaving at early morning, catching the first lights of the day sneaking up on the sea. Armed with a blanket and a wool hat, I settled on the still wet sand that was creaking under my weight. I was the only one on the whole shore, me and it, in front of me so gigantic with its soft noise and its going back and forth on the shore. Therefore, I waited for the sun to rise, an unbelievable show that I would see more often if only I was leaving closer to the seaside. Sitting on my blanket with glows to avoid the risk of frozen hands at the moment of taking the first pictures, coldness on my cheeks, and red nose. In these moments you feel so little and at the same time the ruler of the world.
Then comes the sun in front of your eyes with all his beauty and the sea starts to colour and shine as ever, and the crispy air slowly goes out on the skin. In these moments me and the camera make a whole and I become eager to take pictures as I freeze every single instant because I know that anything can be repeated in the same way. While I was busy
with the first pictures, a medium-sized dog came forward. It came to the beach with an old man who stopped just at the beginning of the sand focused on the see with a grin that indicated a careless and peaceful mood. In the meantime, the dog ran wildly, always coming back to his feet, for then going back again to an excited run towards the tiny waves that were consuming the sand. In order to break the solitude that must have been his daily situation, the man slowly came closer to check on what I was doing. After the first polite words of welcome, we started to talk about that charming place and about the beauty that can be discerned only during winter. Left alone again, I started to appreciate that spot, a little melancholic but full of hues. The scents of trees started to be more distinct and, if you close your eyes, they can take you back in time in other places and situations. Sand, still cold between my hands, with which it fiddles without leaving any trace. The sea is always there with its constant pace and allows you to see some shells beneath and it seems to invite you to go through it to get in it and swim until the horizon. I am rattled only by the smell of the near restaurant that is starting to prepare lunch well in advance, probably because of some party or special event. All emotions that I rediscover a week later looking at my pictures, hoping that the commissioner of this job could deeply understand their value.
Browsing them on the computer just make me want to go back there and for the first time my desire is to go there with my mysterious coffee partner, without talking, tasting the same emotions together, maybe hand in hand, a contact between the two of us that