ORGANIC RHYTHM BOX
To access the house there was a slight slope from the sidewalk, the door was in the gap under the stairs that led to the upper floor, behind that building was the vegetable garden with lettuces planted under the clothesline where they spread sheets avoiding stepping on the seedlings, five rows of five meters, sure that if you dug there, among the greens, you would reach the other side of the world, china, in huangshi, this is every boy's insular dream, despising rocky core and lava, the imagination fertilized by the archaic atlas affixed to the blackboard on the wooden platform where she, the second mother, professed and extolled the virtues of knowledge for we the donkeys, mere ears outlined in good carpentry desks, shivering in the cold of poverty that forced to wear inadequate clothes, the hexagonal pencil between index, thumb and middle finger, outside the usual six degrees stoning through the fog, well behaved boys and girls, afraid to even ask to go to the bathroom, if you walk and you think about the fact that you are walking, the legs get in the way and lead to the fall, better than the neurons cadence the steps, like a plane that goes on automatic and lands squeaking on the ground, feeling of confident surrender, you lie down and don't remember that may not wake up, unless you, being a child, ask the nanny what death is, she replies that it is when the heart stops working and scared you fall asleep with your hand on the chest, the sound box roars, what astonish is the little white coffin in the living room, brother boy with only four years old, smell of pine from the tree uprooted by the lake, colored balls reflect in the dead pale face, there are no presents but the bells toll and this another noise is from a machine sewing, complements the budget says the first mother with less beautiful but maternal words, she needs to work while her son faces the hades, the coffin will leave for chapel 1 of the mortuary at nine o'clock in the morning, part of the small town is silent and cries, another part plays toys received, christmas.
Copyright © Marco Chies | Year Posted 2022
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