The 6.30 a.m. Walk story

8/08/2016

Aloha!

7/08/16 / Sunday/ 6.30 a.m.

...

She opened her tired eyes, but the sun struck her with a fresh light so they immediately went wider. Not wanting to wake him up, she rolled out of the bed quietly and wore her cheap flip-flops. She didn't care much about her look, the meeting with mirror has been set for another, different occasion.

As she went out, without any phone, just carrying a small towel she genuinely felt that it was very early morning. Cold spread around her firmly, but she didn't want to come back and wear something more than the pajamas she had on. That was the key - to get through that cold by herself.

The market had been sleeping yet, drops of the dew welcomed the town benches saying that you'd need to wait if wanted to sit on your luxury-attached bottoms.

She went down the promenade, the wind has tugged her but nothing had changed. She was walking to the certain point and nor the cold neither the homeless people laying on the way could stop her.

I felt I would stay just a little on the promenade bench, meditating, breathing and generally filling myself with the beauty of that cold morning as I heard the strong ripple.

The owners of the moored boats took their head out of the water flats. Their subculture day plan predicted sleeping time at that very moment, so they were too all over the shop to react and came back to their tiny bedrooms.

I didn't see her for a while, she must have dived for longer under the water and as I started to worry she went out on the ground. The water must have been freezing cold, despite the fact it was the summer.

- Aren't you cold? - I asked spontaneously.
- No - she replied but her body denied it, trembling hard.

A few seconds of silence broken only by the screaming ducks was that moment I saw the story in her eyes to tell now, here in this post. But she added something more.

- It's the catharsis, you know. The cold water. I need that as everyone does - and then she left, leaving me sitting longer than I planned to on the old bench.

I couldn't help thinking about that whole situation, agreeing that the act of clarity is truly needed. The thoughts which are difficult, the world which is intrusive... it's not easy to stop yourself for a while in our times, huh?

So I sat firmly once again and breathed in-out very deeply. The cold touched me even stronger but I smiled. It seems, the wind was my catharsis at that very special moment. Do you remember yours?

...

GigiBax

P.S. I hope you like a little bit different form of the post this time and I also believe you're going to like more photos of james who agreed to use them in my next (and this one) post.