A Glass of Champagne And Some Blackberries

I Enjoyed The sights When I came back home.

I lived them twice.

Perhaps I Only really lived them when they became memories.

The Balcony In our Hotel Room was cozy and small. I spent many moments spying on the overlooking scenes.

Each morning I would naturally wake up around five and there was the sun shyly but steadily lifting its gigantic head from somewhere behind the mountains announcing the birth of a new day.

And there he would be.

That man I watched on a daily basis for the duration of our stay, swimming in one of the pools in the neighboring Tuscan – like villas.

Lapses. Endless lapses.

He became my friend in those early solitary moments before my sister woke up.

I had those views all for myself.

The young couple who walked their dogs on the warm but not yet hot sand. The old man who patiently waited for the fish to get hooked on the small trolling on the shore.

That swimmer.

The same one – or so I poetically liked to believe – each morning who was not afraid of plunging deeper and deeper into the freezing May sea. All alone in this vast never ending sea.

I started dreaming of this May vacation in September.

After eight years of denying myself the pleasure of flying. Heaven knows what happened along the way to make me so afraid of the plane.

And then one September morning something clicked inside of me, and I started researching on Google the benefits of traveling.

For months I planned quietly with my sister for that much awaited vacation.

Also much deserved.

There goes that man in the Tuscan – like villas next to our hotel in the city of Limassol.

Diving in the luxury pool and relentlessly doing his lapses.

I wear my green loose summer dress and I take a long walk by the sea.

Solitude and a clear mind bring tears into my eyes.

Happy tears.

Relieved tears.

I am here.

Not only inside the covers of this summer story.

I am at this stage of my life. Where the past is no longer bothering me with frequent visits. This stage where I feel so free it is almost frightening.

I no longer belong anywhere.

And yet I am okay everywhere I go.

I take off my summer sandals and I carry them in one hand.

My naked feet touch the freezing water. And soon enough they plunge inside the dark sand.

I start picking seashells.

And I stroll.

People are living their morning rituals, and my clear mind is drifting into nothingness.

I don't want to go back.

At the same time Things here are too beautiful to be understood.

I haven't gotten used to the novelty of things yet.

I reach a natural swimming pool on the periphery of the sea.

It is surrounded by rocks.

They have spontaneously and perhaps unintentionally created a swimming pool.

I pick more seashells and I let my feet and my dress get covered by the cold water.

So many sights to remember.

Later. When I am back to everyday life.

How can I go back when I have seen and done so much in only eleven days?

I drink endless glasses of pink champagne.

And Blackberries. Those I dip erotically inside the bubbly liquid.

I live elegantly for eleven days and at times I forget that I am in the presence of my sister.

Together we go everywhere. We try to see as many friends as possible. We go for endless rides. We spend so much money. We walk in our high heels. We take endless pictures out of fear of escaping moments.

How can I go back home after I have allowed myself this amount of freedom. This amount of variety. This amount of indulgence.

My sister is slowly waking up.

Midst my morning reverie I forgot the man who is religiously doing his lapses.

I cast a glance to where he is.

Lapses. Endless lapses.

My eyes avert downwards to the side and cozy corner hidden parallel to the entrance.

From our balcony I can see it with its colorful sofas.

This afternoon I shall ask my sister to have our espresso there.

I want to live that corner.

To turn it into a memory.

My sister makes her usual waking sounds.

She will start preparing her coffee as soon as she gets out of bed. I shall force her to wear that straw hat we bought from the huge mall days earlier. I shall wear mine as well. We will sip our coffee and gossip endlessly. On that small balcony that has become our haven.

At night it will be time for the glass of champagne. And the sinful blackberries with their shocking sweetness as they melt inside my mouth.

The full moon will cast its shadows on the frighteningly calm sea.

The tears will come back again.

Clean tears.

Happy ones.

I am here.

Sinfully indulging in so much novelty.

At times too much for me to handle.

When I go back home I shall make it a point to travel every day.

I shall make an effort to make each moment a small trip.

The man whom I have turned into a neighbor if not a virtual friend has gotten out of the pool.

And at this moment my sister has joined me with the pot of warm coffee.

The straw hat suits her.

We sip the addictive liquid and Man! do we gossip.

يلفت موقع النهار الألكتروني إلى أنّه ليس مسؤولًا عن التعليقات التي ترده ويأمل من القرّاء الكرام الحفاظ على احترام الأصول واللياقات في التعبير.

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