in my heart

 páro para contemplar a porta fechada. não é a mesma porta de ontem, os seus cantos outrora polidos e agudos estão agora rombos e lascados, as suas cores semi-apagadas...
ouço o vento assobiar por entre as suas brechas, sinto a brisa quente no meu rosto...


do outro lado, o sonho dança livremente ao som da natureza


por vezes, atravesso os prados em flor, 

sentindo as pingas grossas de chuva 

sob um arco de mil cores


outras vezes, ouço a calmaria da noite, 

as ondas acariciando a areia, 

a lua bebendo do mar

Karl Wilhelm Diefenbach - Il Tramonto

outro dia, outra porta...

In my heart it will never be spring

dream?

I’m on the living room when the phone rings. The number showing on the display is unknown, yet I decide to pick up the call. I hear a bitter and weary voice that says:

the world will end in 65 seconds.

Then the words seem to blur, to lose meaning, while I run to him, hoping he can still grasp some pieces of this strange announcement… I stop. He’s holding the hair dryer on his hand, trying to switch it off in vain. Baffled, he tries to pull the plug yet somehow it keeps on making this perpetual sound… I pass him the phone but there’s no one there anymore.

We glance at each other with startled eyes and immediately know that the time has come:

we have one more minute to live.

In a frantic attempt, we run to the window and realize there’s other people staring from their balconies, waiting for something… the skies are filled with fiery gold clouds. I cry out to him:

I’m scared.

We hold on tight and give one last desperate kiss, and for the last time I taste his lips and sense his touch…

wake up.

I open my eyes. Against the bright shutter of my bedroom I see a tiny cloud of dark dots flying above me…

Open your eyes again.