Category: Parent

23

  By

I woke up on a saturday morning, no work today. I grabbed my shoes, went out and ran. I ran and ran and ran. I ran until I met the sea. The sea is not that far. That’s what I always heard them say. The sea was far where I used to live. It was so far. I could have run all day, I could have run all night and run some more. I would have never met the sea. Dear Sea, I have been looking for you everywhere.

This morning, I woke up, grabbed my shoes and ran. I ran on the pavement. I jumped when I saw the traffic lights. I looked at the cars that would not stop to let me go. I stopped and I jumped. I looked at the traffic lights that would not change to the color I needed. I closed my eyes to calm down and let the anger go away. I opened my eyes to see the color I needed and I ran some more. I ran until I met the sea.

Here, the sea does not look like the sea I used to know when I was a child. The warm sea that invites you to swim, play and dream. The sea that invites you to forget about anything bad,  anything that might have hurt you. Come on and drown the pain. The sea does not look like the sea I used to know when I was a child but it sings the same song. I can’t see the mermaid but I can hear her song. This same mermaid who talked to me years ago. She told me I belonged. I was from here. Child of the sun.

Years have passed and today I am not even sure who I am. Where should I go. Where should I stay. The only thing I am sure of is that I need to be close to the sea. I need to run to her and listen to her voice. I need to listen to the sound of the sea when she is singing to me. I am looking at her and I know I will not cross the big sea today. Today I am stuck right here.

I wanted to travel, go away and leave bad memories behind. I crossed the little sea to get here. Then I ran and I sat in front of the sea to look away. It is only the beginning of the journey. I will get stronger so I can walk longer. I will get stronger and stronger so I can jump high and far. I will cross the big sea.

 

23

  By ,

Lévé sanmdi, pani travay jodi. Trapé soulyé, sòti, kouri. Mwen kouri, mwen kouri, mwen kouri. Mwen kouri jistan mwen rivé bòd lanmè. Bòd lanmè pa lwen, sé sa mwen toujou tann yo di. Bòd lanmé té lwen la mwen téka rété la. I té lwen menm. Mwen té pé kouri kouri an mwen tout la jouné, kouri tout lannuit, kouri ankò san mwen pa jen rivé kontréy. Bòd lanmè. A pa ti chèché mwen ja chèchéw.

Bo maten, mwen lévé, trapé soulyé é mwen kouri. Mwen kouri anlè trotwa. Mwen soté douvan fé wouj, mwen gadé loto ka woulé, ka anpéché mwen kontinyé. Mwen arété, mwen soté, mwen maté, mwen gadé fé wouj la ki pa té vlé chanjé koulè menm. Mwen fenmé zyé an mwen pou kalmé kò an mwen, kité kolè a chapé. Mwen ouvè zyé an mwen pou gadé fé la chanjé koulè é mwen kouri ankò. Mwen kouri jistan mwen rivé bòd lanmè.

Lanmè isi paka sanm lanmè a mwen té konèt lè mwen té piti. Lanmè cho a ki ka mandéw vin bengné, vin jouwé, vin révé. Oubliyé tousa ki mové. Oubliyé sa ki té fèw soufè. Vini néyé doulè. I paka sanm lanmè a mwen té konèt lè mwen té piti mé i ka chanté menm ti chanté la. Mwen ka tann sirèn ka chanté olwen. Sé menm sirèn la ki té fè mwen kwè an té touvé plas an mwen. Tala menm ki té di mwen mwen sé moun isi. Timoun a soley.

Lanné pasé é jodi mwen pa menm sèten ki moun an yé. Ola mwen ké alé. Koté mwen ké rété. Sèl biten mwen sèten, mwen bizwen rété koté lanmè. Kouri é alé kouté vwa ay. Kouté son a lanmè lè i ka chanté ban mwen. Lanné pasé mé mwen paka santi mwen gran. Lanmè gran é mwen piti. Mwen ka gadéy é mwen savé byen mwen péké rivé janbéy jodi. Jodi sé pri mwen pri isi-a.

Mwen té vlé vwayajé, alé lwen, lésé tout mové lidé dèyè. Mwen janbé lanmè-rivé isidan. Mwen kouri pou vini sizé douvan lanmè a é gadé olwen. Sé koumansé chimen la ka koumansé. Mwen ké pran fòs pou maché lontan. Mwen ké pran bon fòs pou soté ho é lwen. Mwen ké rivé janbé lanmè.

22

  By ,

Kepa brushed his thumb across his grandfather’s knuckles. The thin skin stretched taut across bone and worn out cartilage. Arthritis had crippled him years ago but he had stubbornly refused any of his grandsons medical opinions. It was his body, to do or not do as he pleased.

– Rest in peace, Papi. He whispered, his breath turning to fog as the temperature in the room dropped.
Clickety clack, clickety clack, clickety clack
Something was coming down the hall.
No alarm had sounded. The hospitals were not always the first to know when a patient died, but the stribs always knew. And they were always there to reclaim.
Clickety clack, clickety clack, clickety clack.
The room temperature dropped again. Kepa looked at the door and shivered. He stepped back into the corner, pulling the shadows around him like a cloak.
Clickety clack, clickety clack, clickety…
The door opened, white light screaming in. Two masked men and a trolley crossed the threshold. If they had noticed the shadow in the corner, they did not show it. They stopped next to the bed. One opened the trolley, swinging it from hinges at its centre, revealing rows of unlabelled, variously shaped compartments. They approached the body, and with measured, assured movements, swiftly dissected the body. Every part was removed, cleaned and repackaged, until the only thing left behind was an impression in the bed linen where the weight of a man’s body had rested. When the stribs left, they left a clean room, and the taste of metal hanging in the air.
Eventually, Kepa emerged from the shadows. He reached out to touch the bed. He had no idea why, there was nothing there. He turned back to the wall, grief swelling in his chest, and threw up.

21

  By

The coffin

It is seven in the morning on a Monday, which looks like one of the eighty-five rainy days in the city of Algeciras. It is cold in the harbour’s distribution centre and there is at least one hour before sunrise. A crew of workers toils in time to load the last wagon of a goods train that will take nearly nine hours to reach its destination: Barcelona. A crane helps two guys to place a small but heavy wooden box. There is nothing to wonder, nothing to suspect. All packages are heavy and uncomfortable.

The young men are waiting at the door of the wagon to put the last item of the shipment, in a nearly 400-meter long wagon. The yellow machine that carries the last pallet arrives. The guys look at each other surprised, they are novice, this is the first time they meet with something like that: a coffin. The first reflex is the instinct of superstition, to refuse to touch that thing which the machine placed into the old wagon floor. The curt cry of the machine operator forced them to move and to push the coffin to a vehicle’s corner.

The convoy, pulled by a 319 locomotive of 1150 horsepower, departed from Algeciras on time. After six and a half hours, the coffin was opened. Jaume Bastida came out of the coffin with a small toolbox and a lever in his hands. He moved around looking for a very specific box, a small one with a huge orange sticker: “Fragile”. Jaume used the lever skilfully, taking care not to destroy the wooden box. When he pulled the side cover the content was visible: a safe.

Several hours later, Francesc Bastida parked an old hearse inside a garage in Castelldefels. He is uncomfortable with the suit and the tie, but the shoes are killing him since he left the harbour of Barcelona. He closed the door of the garage from the inside, loosened his tie and threw the jacket on some old pneumatics. He opened the back door of the hearse and knocks on the coffin. Francesc opened the lid and there he was, Jaume, drenched in sweat, playing dead with his hands crossed, with his tongue out, surrounded by banknotes.

20

  By

Manuel de Pedrolo

The Limit

1955

So far there had been no trail, only the sand filling the four sides of the horizon. It stretched in an endless plain, hardly interrupted by mild dunes, small and still waves that seemed to be fixed, one would say, once and for all. The undulations of that desert resembled the tiles of rooftops. Not a bush, not a tree did break the monotony: the desolation was infinite. All had the quality of an abstract thing, lifeless, ideal. It did not lack some beauty, though; a truly terrible and annihilating beauty.

However, the two explorers advanced. They came from so far away that they could hardly be surprised by the absence of traces; yet, they were a bit surprised, as they knew that extension had at some point been crossed by other adventurous beings. They knew that in one place or another they would end up finding the traces they were looking for. But where? And if they found them, how would they interpret them? They did not ignore the fact that some questions would be raised then. And among them there would be an essential one: where had their precursors departed from?

But it could also be the case that no one, truly no one, had ever ventured to that desert. Then, all the knowledge that had prompted them to start exploring would be false, probably a product of a excessive imagination. But this was not possible, there are things that can not be invented. Someone had to be there at some point.

With their eyes looking down to the floor, they kept on going. Before leaving they had said almost all there was to be said, and now they no longer needed words. No, at least while they were searching.

Above them the sky rested heavily, another boundless desert, an exact replica of the first. A strange light, however, shed from it. A clarity of dawn in its first and shy phase. This did not worry them, a they knew it could not be otherwise. They knew so many things, that their knowledge, all hypothetical at the same time, was almost a handicap. Thus, they expected with joy the opportunity to rectify many of their views. That had been the exact reason to undertake such a painful adventure.

19

  By

‘ … The Women’s Shelter is here to listen to you and support you in your situation. They can help you get in touch with the police, social services or a health center.

The Women’s Shelter can advise you on who you can turn to , such as an attorney , family law and other organizations. They can meet you to talk and to provide accommodation for a short time for you and your children.

Those working at the Women’s Shelter have a good understanding of your situation. They are accustomed to listening . If you call because someone else in your neighborhood is exposed to violence, you can get advice on what you can do to help that person. ‘

– ‘Hello ‘, she suddenly heard a voice say while the front door was opened. She quickly closed the computer again and picked up a book that she pretended to read.

– ‘ Hi honey ‘ he said as he entered the room. She looked at his reflection in the mirror that hung in front of her. He was in a good mood for once; a faint smile on his lips. He bent down and kissed her neck. A shiver went down her spine, of  both fear and pleasure.

– ‘ Hello, ‘ she said back and tried to smile gently but her lips ached. They were swollen from his latest outburst yesterday; she had however already repressed what had happened.

– ‘ What are you doing here, sitting here in this cramped room’ he said, looking around him. ‘You have to go out into the air and enjoy life! Well, or maybe when you look a bit more respectable’. He looked at her in the mirror and shook his head.

– ‘You darned woman, you make me do it. You know I do not want to but it’s the only way you will learn; I do it because I love you.’

He put his hand on her cheek and caressed her lips gently with his thumb before he leaned forward and kissed her gently.

– ” Ugh, it’s like kissing a toad ‘ he said with a disgusted expression. ‘Go and put some ice on the lip so the swelling goes down. I’m going to go and watch the sport’. He said as he left the room and walked towards the living room .

She leaned forward and looked at her lips in the mirror. Who would ever want to help a toad like her?

18

  By

Ice

He took one last breath, causing him a deathly stabbing pain in his lungs, and to this air he dedicated the last conscious effort he felt he was capable of. He clung to the nearest rock so he would not slide down the slope as he lost consciousness while asking himself what was the point, if his unavoidable destiny would be marked on the moment he closed his eyes anyway. The air was so cold that he felt his skin chapping, painlessly; and it was so snowy that he could barely glimpse the shadow of his own hands, clasping the outcrop with difficulty.

The exhaustion prevented an outburst of rage and desperation that would have burnt out the little energy he had left. He slightly felt some self-pity. Why? was the only thing he was able to focus on, only this word was floating on his mind intermittently; it was the only one to which he thought he could find some sense, although not an answer.

–

“I have been looking for you for so long.”

It was not the first time that he had heard that voice or that same sentence. It repeated itself on an infinite loop all around him, closer and closer, brought by time and space; and it stuck to his skin like it was the only thing that could rescue him.

“I have been looking for you for so long… Come back to me.”

The voice broke and still exuded a compelling sweetness, the anxiety to be heard. It incessantly caressed him with its worn fingers and, where it lost contact, the twinges of pain caused by the cold emerged with cruelty.

He reacted slowly, strangely; he remembered having abandoned himself to death without even a last flutter of false victory and was surprised to wake up again. He did not want to wonder if he was alive. If he was not, too many questions would ensue for his tired body and exhausted mind to bear. He actually wanted to rest; but the voice, endless and ethereal, pushed him out of his quasi feverish reverie.

“I have been looking for you for so long… Come back to me… Do not leave me now.”

He opened his eyes without knowing if the voice did actually belong to a body, hardly scared though, and before him he only saw blue. Two blue eyes like the sky on a spring morning, shiny and bright, captivating.

17

  By

MirrorReSized85

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16

  By

You rose, sun! You rose just like you do everyday. You rose when your heart told you to do so. You slept all you needed all night long and now you decided to rise and go parade around the sky. You let the night show off with the moon and the beautiful stars. You let the night pose and send dreams to the sad ones. But now you decided that you are the ruler of this world. You are the one who shines to tell people to wake up. You are the one who shakes up each body that is still asleep in bed. The one who makes people wince. You make people remember they have to go to work, go to school, go buy, go walk, go find something to do. Leave all the dreams behind and do! Do something. The sun is shining; it is not time to dream anymore. The sun rose my friends; rise! You have to rise too. But I was already up. I was not asleep, sun. I was not dreaming. My eyes were open wide and I was waiting for you.

I stood up in the middle of the night. I walked quietly so nobody could hear me and I opened the curtains. The night was beautiful but she sent no dreams for me. I looked at the stars and  the sky whose color was changing. The night tried to fight when the sun told her to leave. She tried to resist but what can you do against the sun? The heat will first be sweet and caress you but you should not come too close. Stay there, don’t come too close. Don’t look him in the eyes. Stay too long, don’t look down and he will burn you. You will loose your eyes. The sun will always decide when he wants to rise, shine, burn. He will always tell you it is time to rise. I didn’t wait for him to stand up but his light is telling me it is now time to look at the day that is beginning and forget about me. Go and choose a name so they can call me. Put a mask on my face. Walk like them, talk like them, work like them and hush the little music inside. The path is going through their factory and the sun is telling me it is time to go.

15

  By ,

A man lies slumped on the ground, as if drunk. A fresh bandage has been wrapped around his head, covering his eyes. Food remnants lie scattered around his unconscious body. Kepa sleeps. He does not know who keeps him trapped here but he knows that every time he wakes up from a sleep as deep as this one, that his dressing is fresh and he has been washed.

As he emerges from sleep, he tries once more to put the pieces together. They know who he is and they know what they have made a mistake. But who are they? The Burnt City. That had not been scheduled. That was why he went to investigate – there are no rumours when the burning is scheduled. It would not have been the work of vigilantes; Companies have too much to lose. Who was it? And why was he still alive?

Approaching footsteps echo from the far end of the chamber. It is a familiar gait, one he trusted still. It was a long time since someone remembered his birthday.  Pedro had been right, and Kepa was thankful he came from a large family. The money he received on his birthday during his childhood helped to pay off the last installment every year.

When the camps opened first, there had been hundreds of them but only a handful near his city, and his mother fretted about sending him so far away. The camps lay in designated areas outside urban settings and were lauded by critics for their ability to connect with the next generation of citizens, advance knowledge and ensure a healthy population. They began as state services, provided by the Council as a way to provide education programs and other activities to young inner city children who otherwise had little chance of accessing formal education. Each camp combined the standard education system requirements with special ‘development programs’. The camps were used as testing grounds for the latest pedagogical theories, they offered psychological services, intelligence tests, physical endurance tests, practical skills knowledge and much, much more. Each area was subdivided based on the percentage of human component in each candidate. Kepa could still remember the awful aftertaste of a blueish grey liquid he had to rinse with once a month. He had no idea now what it was for, it was simply something they all had to do.

What had begun as free, state-funded activities, however, were soon taken over by private investors. The introduction and increase of fees was slow enough to prevent widespread condemnation but fast enough to quickly affect poorer families. By then, Kepa had long since moved on.

Pedro stopped in front of his old friend and hoisted the weakened Kepa to his feet.

–          Where are we…?

–          I know someone who’s recycling fresh meat. Let’s go get you cleaned up.