One Apple A Day #102
A handful of small white fluffy clouds were slowing crossing the sky. It was a hot summer day, mid-August. Everyone he knew was on holiday. Most of his friends, they think that going a few miles away will save them from their routine, will give them peace and happiness. But they forgot to leave themselves behind so they kept carrying with them their pains, fears and lies. And like every previous year, once back they discovered that nothing changed and they found someone or something else to blame.
He didn’t go anywhere. It was pointless. He knew there was no way to leave behind that black hole eating him from inside.
The sky was a pale blue as if the hot was drying away its colour. The humidity in the air dumped his clothes and his skin, but he didn’t care. He was laying on the grass with his arm wide open. Crucified to the ground for someone else sins.
The park was almost empty by midday. Even the few families that didn’t leave the town went hiding inside their homes, protected by their air conditioners.
But he had nowhere to go. For sure he wasn’t going to spend in that house more time than necessary. And considering he wasn’t sleeping much lately, his idea of “necessary” was a few hours in the night.
What if he was just dreaming? If the last months were nothing else than a long bad nightmare?
He closed his eyes. The grass was tickling the back of his neck. It was like caresses. For a moment he felt like if the earth was hugging him. Whispering “You’re safe, Paul. Don’t worry. It’s just a dream. You’re not alone.”
When he opened his eyes again, the clouds were still there hanging from the pale sky. It wasn’t a dream. It was so damn real. So painful.
He thought it was the end. The end of everything.
But it wasn’t. He didn’t know at that time, but that pain was just the beginning.