[Jun 28 02]
A sunny afternoon in the beginning of winter. Hard not to be influenced by such a crystalline and refreshing day. Even more so here, at the end of a narrow and long pier, surrounded by the wrinkled-marine-blue water.
If someone managed to bottle that breeze, "I'd buy it", Me thought, observing the diving of the most playful seagull of the flock.
Far away behind him, a long whistle sounded. 13 days... had he tried to guess where he would be today, when he left, probably he would have been wrong. And now, where would he like to be? Another sound, grave, this time coming from the sea, from the bay entrance.
"That seagull seems to fly for fun...", thought Me, surprised, when the bird hedgehoped again without worrying about catching food.
"So, what will it be?" If he ran now, he would be able to get on the train. "No need for a ticket, neither luggage, on the train". Tomorrow he would be at home. "Home?" At least he knew where it was. The ship, now crossing, gigantic, right in front of him — where would it go?
In a few minutes the train would leave. At the same time, the ship would finish berthing (in stories like this one, huge ships for long crossings stop to catch passengers in small anchorages like this one). "What will it be?", Me asked himself again, provocative. Because he already knew the answer.
So he stood up, took a last glance at the seagull (that had just beaten the speed record of its species) and left. The sun was already diving into the horizon. He would not catch the train, seen now by him on its way back. Neither the ship, about to anchor some meters behind him, the immense shadow covering all the wooden path. "Not today."
[Jul 02 02]
How much could happen since the afternoon at the pier? Everything calm here on the outside, but Me has been fighting against his demons and believes to be at an advantage. His power flows like words, more free today, stronger. Don't forget: tomorrow and still for a long time, daily scheduled walks.
[Jul 23 02]
Me has a few more things in his backpack. A nº 1 DB manga, which helped him in one specific practice, many written pieces like this one, strengthened convictions and... a shortie story. Lying on the grass, without walking for a few days, he was savoring the minuscule conquest.
Kilometers away from where he started, it could be said that he had taken the first step. Better, two or three, considering the faults he was able to notice, isolate and fight. It's almost 8:30 now, in a watch he knows to be off by a few minutes.
Me, as we can see, is walking again. He should have left yesterday, but what's wrong with giving yourself (one +) day to rest? Before the first register in this file, it would have been a day of accusations. But this was of harvesting.