Fountain

[Reading time: 5 minutes]

One day came where she decided to escape. She started to run as fast as she could, out from the castle. Her feet were powdering the ground, in the rapidness she had to take off her shoes and lost them in the way. While she was running, she could not stop smiling. She felt perfectly happy and some tears came in her eyes. She ran, non-stopping, until she arrived in a mysterious place, very different from the majestic castle. There were merchants, apples, people selling every sort of things, cereals, vegetables, donkeys loaded up, tiny streets smelling acidly. She stopped in something which looked like a square where a bunch of children were begging for something, some food, a piece of bread, some money, whatever. No one would give them anything. Someone was even insulting them, pushing them away with sticks. These children looked extremely unhealthy. They were wearing rags and had just a bit of skin left covering their bones.

She bought a piece of bread and sat on the stairs of a fountain which was located in the middle of this noisy square. She looked at her dirty feet, brown because of the earth pasted to her skin. Her right ankle was hurting. “What have I done?”. And she swallowed a piece of bread. It was very soft. The extremities of her hair were soaking in the basin, but she had not notice it because it was too long now. Since the day her father prevented her to go out, she had not cut it.

There was a great sun that day. The children looked fascinated by this barefoot lady. He had something close to them. Suddenly they felt her eyes resting on them. She was staring at the oldest one. He got scared. She insisted with her eyes and murmured “Come!”. He was not moving. She said again: “Come! Don’t be scared!”. She tore off a piece of her loaf, offering it with her hands to the child. He was confused, but started to move closer. He grabbed it and run away immediately. And then she saw all the others. They were way too much. It was impossible to feed all these pocket-size creatures. But little by little they started to approach her, even if she had just that tiny bread to share. She divided into pieces the whole loaf and this time the children did not move. They looked at her again. “I don’t have any more kids”, “I cannot help you”. One of them sat next to her. She was not used to the physical contact. She had a first instinct to move away, but that child looked so comfortable laying on her legs that she felt an instant tenderness and stopped moving. He closed his eyes. Another one did the same. And another one. And another one again…All of a sudden, all of them were imitating the others, and this painting looked dramatically artistic in that moment. 

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2 thoughts on “Fountain

  1. The story sways like a quiet melody. Poetic images that fade into the beauty of the closed eyes of innocence. Marvellous little gem!

    A fellow poet.

    Like

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