Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Christmas Miracle

  It's Christmas Eve, the street walker lays on her home, the concrete benches, resting on the scabbed shoulders scratched from the hard concrete. Tears dried since she already shed all she had for herself and the world. Echoes distant, glares fogging up while arms embrace the fortune of a story.
   The woman of the park shivers in feverish delirium. She misses the story stopped long ago that it confuses her what were fables or reminds of her own. Around her, the city’s central stage seems decorated, bright cans, colorful pieces of caramelized apples, ribbons, brightly illustrated wrapping papers, fragments of the witnessed happiness.
   The fake snow ripped through swings in the wind; neglected colored plastic cups discarded after use dance popping on the ground. "They were so bright" - she thinks inset a slight awakening.
   When her eyes shut, she sees the snow loosen up and fall over the city as white confetti, flying in the soft breeze. Below her she can no longer feel the cement, but the soft smoothness of the white snow. A warm snow enveloping her in a hug for a moment, only to wake up again the next minute by the laughter of teenagers staring at her. She smiles appreciatively for the visit, happy, the sound of their laughs sounding like thorns crackling on fire.
   One by one the stores have closed their doors. The lights have been turned off, steps extinguished, no longer are the singing voices heard and behold the bells of the cathedral announce the twelve chimes.
   With eyes shut, she dresses the white snow, floats climbing the twelve steps of darkness, one by one. Her hair elongates, her figure glows and a serene scent of roses enters through her nostrils. She feels the wrinkled face stretching, blushing. From the third step she can already gaze at the distant star singing heavenly voices, approaching the hands extended for the last time.
   The square remains dark, oblivious with all its plastic of the Christmas miracle that just took place. It took darkness and loneliness so she could receive her wished star.
   She was found the next morning. Covered in mysterious white glittering substance; she had a smile on her lips and the glazed eyes shining as she was gazing at the morning star.

National Hospital December 25, 2012 ...

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

A Christmas wish

         The city’s streets are festively lighted, full of laughter like a fairy tale. On vacation lots of people come to the “soft breeze” city, as the town is known, searching for it’s colorful caring life. It’s December and December is the month to hope for a better year to come;  the month in which the hopeful sparkles on the children’s eyes spreads contagiously to everyone's.
         Wrapped in colorful papers toys hold hope, the promise of laughter and that today’s happiness could mean happiness ever after.
         Softly the fake snow seems to melt from above the city’s central stage, there’s a fog of lights surrounding the city’s singers.
         Another December, the far away stars are beyond the gods, because it’s Christmas and the blinking of artificial lights blinds the sky.
         On the benches that surrounds the stage, near the bicolor stones of the sidewalk, away from the crowd of late buyers, a lady sits alone.
         The lady is very tiny and weak. On her thin, short and bleached hair she wears some bandages hiding an unimportant wound. It’s possible to see her shaking, even from the distance; hopelessly she lays on her knees as she looks at her bare feet and can’t help but make a wish to Santa.
         The lady’s wish isn’t made of written, spoken or thinkable words, but her message echoes, louder than the powerful speakers that amplifies the voice of those  who can sing. She holds the antitheses of a song all curled up, and from her silent wish a tear   springs, slowly slides and fall.
         If there weren’t so many artificial lights in this city, there would be stars available in the sky, instead the only ones visible are the ones money can buy. It’s clear she can’t afford one.
         The lady’s wish is only a Christmas Star. Is She going to have Christmas?