He got into the car.
Sat down, fastened the seat belt, turned the engine on
Didn't leave the clutch.
Outside the car the night was silent and sweet, as only the Italian summer nights can be sometimes
The engine trumbled softly.
The noise of his thoughts as an hissing
Silence all around
He turned the radio on
A second to power up the circuits, grab the signal, decode and amplify the pre-selected station
"..When winter leaves her branches bare
And icy breezes chill the air
Oh Julia .."
He smiled with pleasure, while the wonderful voice of Annie Lennox filled the car.
Julia, that wonderful song he loved so much.
Slowly engaged the speed and entered the secondary road
Corrugated asphalt, damaged in many points, loads of holes, all sizes
A secondary road, indeed
Amber waves of grain on both sides.
Fields and trees lining the road, houses in the distance
The city on the hill, just on the horizon
Covered by clouds was the sky and ready for a huge storm in a while
Ten minutes, something like that
Downshifted as he approached the pale building in the outskirts of the city
A parking place, huge and almost empty, in front of the cafè
Red and blue lights pulsing to grab attention
A would-be fancy cafè, one of so many in the area.
No one outside despite the pleasant temperature.
Edward Hopper could paint something peculiar being here, he thought
A couple sipping a cappucino
Some guys chatting
Waitress behind the desk preparing some cocktail
Bad music in the air.
"A coffee please", he asked in a low voice.
The girl nodded and turned to the coffee machine.
He turned as well to watch the room
It was then that he noticed her.
A surprise, in that Margot had to be away, back to her country, forever
And yet she was there, unexpected
Long blonde hair, white dressed as usual, eyes as blue as the sky
A lighter shade of blue in effect
A pale blue
She noticed him as well and hinted a smile
He smiled in return
He met her just three times, maybe four, in so many months
Not sure how and why they began to talk the first time, but they did
Some simple little talk, some curiosity, for some minutes.
Last time he met her, she was going to finally leave Italy and move back to her country
It was during one of those little talks, that she surprised him
"Tutto passa", she said, maybe referring to her experience in the country.
And it was this to leave him surprised
Unexpectedly she got the point
As simple as this
A little talk, an easy chat, those ordinary things of any day
And then the sharp, precise, restless, meaning of those two words
As simple as this
He remained speechless that time, making connections far beyond the initial discussion
But this was months ago.
Now she was there again, smiling
"Shouldn't you go back to your country, should you?"
"Yes I should, still some days more, then I'll finally leave. Tutto passa and the Italian experience is gone".
Ten minutes of nice talk, then he greeted her and wished her good luck
Stories and novels, stories and shades of words. Sapphire can be a voice, a whisper, a night talk. Colours in words, words merged and melted with pictures. Words as colours, words as shapes sometimes overlapping with the visual experience. A different way to see the world or, maybe, just the very same way using different tools and finding different paths.