The Wait for the Dusk
As the hours pass slowly, the afternoon becomes an exercise in patience. Sitting on the terrace, you watch the shadows stretch and unfold across the ceilings and walls, creating an almost hypnotic rhythm in the atmosphere. The calm of this scene envelops you, suggesting that the world can wait. A sip of water refreshes your lips, while a slight stretch of your arms seeks to combat the tiredness that is beginning to surface.
The Echo of Summers Past
The oppressive heat brings with it a flood of memories that transport you to days of fun on the waters of a raft. Your brother’s contagious laughter echoes in your mind, intertwined with the carefree laughter of other teenagers. Nostalgia mixes with sadness, as you remember that those places have changed: the family refuge is now a rural house, and the raft has been transformed into a swimming pool. Still, the echoes of childhood remain alive in your memory.
Connections in the Residence
When dinner arrives, you head to the residence where your brother lives. There is a familiar murmur between the walls, a space where routine never stops. As you watch him at his isolated table, you notice the absence of your nieces, who cannot visit at the moment. However, the familiarity between you allows an exception for your presence, although you feel the gaze of the nurses, who sense that your own arrival at this place is not so far away.
Reflections in the Night
Saying goodbye to him, you notice the changes in his gaze, lost in a silence that seems to scream. You walk home alone, with the night enveloping your figure. It is a return through a landscape that is no longer the same, with changed seasons and streets that lead to reimagined places. The weather announcements whisper to you the arrival of storms, and you decide to change your usual path through the square and the bar, looking for the echo of your youth in the farmhouse that is now a country house.
The Freedom of Remembrance
You pass by what was once the raft, now a pool that steals the soul of that summer of yesteryear. If your knees allow it, you think about returning to the liberation of that dip, stripping off like in those carefree years. The night wind caresses your skin, and in that symbolic act, you throw yourself into the water, where the youthful hubbub and your brother’s laughter seem to reverberate in the air, reminding you that although time moves on, the moments shared never completely disappear.
