Behind me were left lanes of cars, the traffic jam and a grey sky that used to like me as a charming dramatic colour, but not anymore, since it becoming the reflexion of my nostalgic for a city and a life where I did not want belong anymore, turned into a plain gray sky.

Instead of it, a new landscape under another light simpler and brighter was revealing to me,  fishermen on the shore and herons and Maria Mulatas battleling for remains of fish in a fluid and natural performance, along side to my way, my new way ongoing, while I was holding a new blank notebook.

I met you four years after I arrived and 48 hours before leaving the “new” life which won’t be new anymore, as nothing is new after being started one second later. But that is life, as blank pages, to be used, spent, sometimes to be writen, sometimes to read them or be reread them.

Today, I am reading about that day, my first work’s day, where I lived without know what for exactly I had came, without having a clue about fate. Where I am right now coming back to my memories and the new present at once, every beat new, every breath, new and spent at same time, waiting for you this afternoon, to be here and we leave it again, together, this time. But while you are coming from the opposite side to my shore, I just wish to you, enjoy the way, as I have had since I knew it with none clue of the map ot the route.


Cartagena, feb. 12 de 2018

Publicado por lucerorodriguezg

Soy mujer. Escribo. He sido periodista y editora independiente. Busco algunas hojas en blanco virtuales para ver qué pasa con lo que dejo allí... Algo más sobre mí está en la etiqueta YO SOY LÚ. En las otras etiquetas hay algo de hormonas, rayones y notas inéditas y publicadas en otros medios.


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