My map of grass and trees was rolling down the paper easy and smooth. It sounded like Chet Baker playing the trumpet and looked florescent green. I was rolling down myself, remembering and living it at the same time. All my trees have always been tall and strong and beautiful. The first one was dark green and had no end to it. It joined directly the blue sky of my childhood: a long ladder to climb up to the clouds, sit there and have tea with my friends. The sun was beating up the tortoise's shell, hot like iron. There was nowhere for 'Pierina' to escape, except a hole in the ground or one in between the brick walls. Pierina liked lettuce and tomatoes but also peaches. She disliked apples and dry bread but was fond of pizzas. Pierina had a nice napkin around her neck so that from the top of the tree I could still see her. She got lost once, in our understanding that is; or she disappeared, in her understanding that is. If she did that on purpose...
Pensieri fissi o mobili, manie, sprazzi e sprizzi di luce... A blog for bilingual (and non-bilingual) readers

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