Chocolate aroma

She stared out the window while sitting in the habitual rocking chair. She grabbed a ball of yarn in the hand and two needles. She saw those two kids playing outside in the park, a girl and a boy laughing in the swings. Soon, she perceived a delightful smell coming from the kitchen, where her husband was preparing some hot chocolate. Meanwhile, she continued looking through the window at the two innocent children having fun. The sun was setting and the fresh grass grew higher than usual. A magic breeze blew the girl’s hair and their harmonized laughter fills the air.

She crocheted once again sitting in the rocking chair and looking out the window, two teenagers sitting peaceably in the swings, talking while holding hands. The habitual chocolate aroma coming out the kitchen, her husband was making hot chocolate once again. This time, a tear ran down her face, he possessed something he didn’t deserve and she knew he would go someday. Her melancholy grew along with the chemistry between the two teenagers. When the days were filled with intense passion.

She had fallen asleep while watching the TV at the same rocking chair. Her energy was decreasing and she felt everyday more tired that the previous one. She looked at the park beside the house and saw two young adults sitting on a bench, kissing passionately as autumn crept in. Leaves fell around them but they weren’t aware of the real world. She got up the chair to turn the stove off and serve the hot chocolate, her only company in that huge house.

She looked up from the book, the noise wasn’t letting her focus on her reading. She stared out the window for a moment and saw a couple walking in front of the house, pushing a baby carriage. She showed a wrinkled smile that just faded when her eyes directed to the builders demolishing the old park, the old swings and that rusty bench. She missed that chocolate aroma, that restrained touch that saw them grow, that came from company, the irrelevant chocolate aroma always tracking her down and that made her feel less alone.

 

Irrelevant

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Reckless

Life and dreams are peculiar, contradictory and slippery. They are a reckless rollercoaster that go both ways. You could choose to avoid that reckless path of dreams but you may be denying true life.

Because when you dream, you’re risking to have nightmares.

Dreaming is not easy, you can fall to the ground and sometimes it’s even harder to get up. You can be beaten and fail. Dreaming is a reckless trance, full of free falls and dead ends. Full of labyrinths and lost clues. Full of cruel darkness and closed doors. But there’s always light at the end of that reckless path, there’s always a way out and a perfect door that will take you the right way.

You can choose not to fall down the trance at noon, when people start chasing their dreams. Or you can go down the peculiar path of the never-ending labyrinth. Dreaming is a reckless shadow that pays with the same coin. That flies high on winter days and slows down when summer arrives.

So you could choose to fear everything, not to go deeper, not to love, not to dream but not to live. Because when you dream, you’re risking to have nightmares, you’re risking to feel the reckless part of the slope. But it’s better to feel alive chasing nightmares than to die in a perfect paradise.

 

 

Peculiar

A runaway train

She used to travel by train every day, her days are busy and the train is the only moment she has to close her eyes. Sometimes she thought about taking a few days or going on vacation. No. It will not help her career. Trying to win a bet on time, she closed her eyes, not wanting to look how she approached to her stop. She never looked around, she thoughts that if she did, it will be a waste of time. Staying here in reality while time passes and laughs in front of her.

It all happened one of those normal days, ten minutes after she had close her eyes she heard the train’s wheels grinding just before a big din. Nothing else. Everything was quiet. For the first time since she used to travel in that train, she opened her eyes and looked out the window, speed, disaster, dust, snow. She shouted but no one could hear her, the train wasn’t going to stop. She smiled. Passing in front of her eyes, carrying wagons of memories. She was convicted to travel in that runaway train and it doesn’t matter how much she wanted it, how many things she tried on order to do it, she could never stop it.

She really needed those vacations, maybe a pause, a little jump in front of that train.

tren

Taken from: url

Sorry for the wait, school has been very demanding lately and my writing has been stored in a drawer. The next week I’ll try to write and update more ❤

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