«On those occasions, when the amount of unanswered
questions, dangerously defied his ability to make sense of the direction his
life was taking, every atom of his being compelled him to seek guidance beneath
the night sky, where he could benefit from the reassuring cover of the darkness
and consciously reduce the probability of being caught out of guard, bearing
his vulnerability.»
By Raquel R. in Short Story
number 11
«By my intimacy with nature
I find myself withdrawn from man. My interest in the sun and the moon, in the
morning and the evening, compels me to solitude.»
«The product of that imperceptible speech can be found
everywhere, whether in the form a slightest chill in the spine or in a stubborn
certainty that despite the faint odds, never fades away.»
By Raquel R. in Short Story
number 11
«And softness came from the starlight and
filled me full to the bone.»
«Life, itself, in its
unstoppable pace, manages to efficiently disconnect every being of its
ancestral roots. But, when one listens carefully we might discover, that the
universe always finds its way to summon and question us.»
By Raquel R. in Short Story
number 11
«Our dreams prove that to imagine - to dream about
things that have not happened - is among mankind's deepest needs.»
«This was no news to him.
Every now and then, he feels deep in his bones, an urge to re-establish the
vital connection and natural sync, of the flow of his life and thoughts, with
the universe’s. »
By Raquel R. in Short Story
number 11
«Why, she reflected, should
there be this perpetual disparity between the thought and the action, between
the life of solitude and the life of society, this astonishing precipice on one
side of which the soul was active and in broad daylight, on the other side of
which it was contemplative and dark as night?»
«The late night breeze came in, unexpectedly, through
the open window, revolving the hot and dense air. The tinkling sound of the wind-chime
propagated its melody through every room in the house and that sudden stir on
the quiet atmosphere propelled his energy levels to the point of felling a hint
of restlessness taking over him.»
By Raquel R.
in Short Story number 11
«The wind must have
heard your voice once. It echoes and sings like you.»
Short Story number 11: Inspired by the song «Feeling the Pull» by The
Swell Season from the albumStrict Joy.
The late night breeze came in, unexpectedly, through the open window,
revolving the hot and dense air. The tinkling sound of the wind-chime
propagated its melody through every room in the house and that sudden stir on
the quiet atmosphere propelled his energy levels to the point of felling a hint
of restlessness taking over him.
This was no news to him. Every now and then, he feels deep in his bones,
an urge to re-establish the vital connection and natural sync, of the flow of
his life and thoughts, with the universe’s. Life, itself, in its unstoppable
pace, manages to efficiently disconnect every being of its ancestral roots. But,
when one listens carefully we might discover, that the universe always finds
its way to summon and question us.
Being an avid interpreter of this silent language, he learned that every
time he feels the need to be in close contact with the simple elements of
nature, it usually means, that some answers need to find its way through the
maze of the daily distractions or some questions need to be asked.
The product of that imperceptible speech can be found everywhere,
whether in the form a slightest chill in the spine or in a stubborn certainty
that despite the faint odds, never fades away.
On those occasions, when the amount of unanswered questions, dangerously
defied his ability to make sense of the direction his life was taking, every
atom of his being compelled him to seek guidance beneath the night sky, where
he could benefit from the reassuring cover of the darkness and consciously
reduce the probability of being caught out of guard, bearing his vulnerability.
The privacy of those ceremonial moments allowed him to engage in a sincere
conversation with himself.
At this point, his concentration levels were at their lowest. He might
as well surrender to this silent calling so he stood up and went outside.
As
always, in those occasions, he followed the standard procedure that had proved
to be the most effective in appeasing those sudden peaks of lucidity, and after
carefully selecting a secluded area, he engaged in the apparent prosaic action
of looking up to the night sky. Every
time he gazed at the night sky, with its countless celestial bodies, illuminating
the profuse and deep darkness, and submitted it, to the limited scrutiny capacity
of the human eye, he automatically condemned his terrestrial nature to navigate
his thoughts between two compelling possibilities: whether to feel crushed
under the acknowledgment of the unimaginable dimension of the universe’s
infinity, or to surrender to the irresistible attraction of being sucked in to
the vastness of its mysteries. It was roaming between those two possibilities
that he always found a starting point from which to derive his thoughts.
The profound silence of the nocturnal hours has always been one of the
factors that impressed him the most in those lone night incursions, but in
order to fully benefit from that experience, he needed to empty his head from
all the gibberish talk that had been overpowering his thoughts and allow this
peaceful state, resulting from the absence of noise, to impregnate his mind,
like a sponge gladly welcomes the liquid element which will transform its
barren matter into a fertile receptacle of life.
The night breeze, which was now stronger, messed his hair. A couple of
clouds passed by, briefly concealing the stars behind their ephemeral shapes.
He felt that his senses gradually grew sharper making him sensible to all manifestations
of life that were simultaneously happening around him, even the tiniest and
imperceptible ones.
From
where he was standing he could hear the children’s distant laughter and giggles
as they played in the neighborhood streets. Like a sudden rush of energy in a
lifeless being, that contagious and familiar sound, immediately re-established
the connection with the sometimes forgotten and often neglected part of him that
still preserved that childlike ability, to believe in what is considered impossible,
in the light of the rational standards. Almost instantly, these intrusive, yet
pleasing thoughts, made him redirect his energy levels, fueling his will with a
renewed hope and faith in the future.
Looking around him, he spotted the glorious full moon silhouette,
peeking among the tree’s branches. The sight of that unique, yet familiar vision
was like bumping into an old friend in a foreign city. Its discrete glow was
just enough to allow him a satisfactory perception of the surroundings. Not that
he needed for he was pretty sure where he was going.
«It was time to leave. She closed her eyes and let herself
be rocked by the sounds of the gentle lapping ocean waves. Her breathing and
heartbeat became one with that sound and magically everything seemed to make
sense again.»
By Raquel R.
in Short Story number 10
«It seems to me that the natural world is the greatest
source of excitement; the greatest source of visual beauty, the greatest source
of intellectual interest. It is the greatest source of so much in life that
makes life worth living.»
«Time passed by quickly. The tide was slowly rising
again and the sun was setting. The sounds and smells were now more intense than
ever. Behind her, the ocean mist descended upon that place transforming the
coastal vegetation into a distant blur. Soon the darkness would take over the
beach.»
By Raquel R.
in Short Story number 10
«At the beach, life is different. Time doesn’t move
hour to hour but mood to moment. We live by the currents, plan by the tides,
and follow the sun.»
