The Inés afraid "God squeezes but does not strangle" my mother used to say.
had to be true because when I was at the top of
stress, hypersensitive, anxious and ready to explode on
the pressures at work and at home disputes as a result of a marriage
empty, worn by years of everyday
the miracle was done: won at work on
award for best executive accounts for the year, consistent
on a trip for two to an island paradise in the Pacific archipelago
.
The travel agency could change the second ticket
for a rental car and more time spent with
expenses paid. Still do not know how I dared to do,
was the first time I cheated on my husband.
The hotel room had views
even more beautiful than in the publicity pamphlet. The night I arrived,
after dinner, I took a relaxing bath salts.
I went to bed and I realized I was alone.
I could not remember the last time I was so with all the time for me,
to do whatever he wanted.
The first week I went down to the beach of fine sand
he picked up a book from the library of
hotel, even a full moon night I made
courage and I enjoyed as a child watching my fingers move
feet through the clear water.
was low season and the tourists, the elderly. A
night, dance organized to terminate a group of Italian travelers
, I took my character more talkative and a grandmother
was jealous of dancing with their husbands.
The meals were plentiful. After dessert, drank a combined
served in a coconut open
renaming it as "nap" for their devastating effect in the end! I could completely disconnect
.
One afternoon I took the car with the intention of giving a tour of the island
. I loved the street names
(wide, with palm trees in the middle): Avenida de las Gaviotas,
Street Dolphin Street orchids.
Willow Avenue, and so all. Ecstatically lost in a place I
alone. Building the road I decided to return to the beach. After a couple of miles without knowing where it went, the car got stuck in the sand. It was near dusk and began to despair. It only happened to me blow the horn. When the sun set over the horizon a bronze torso of the eclipse. Out of focus at first was taking brightness as it came towards me acercaba.Un adonis, albeit somewhat mature, but the adonis end.
Pierre was a sweet, her eyes gave me confidence, it was not hard to convince me to leave the car and follow him. After walking half an hour in silence we
a fairy tale village. I have assembled seven rows of huts on stilts, placed symmetrically along the beach and other both in width, almost
into the jungle with a waterfall of fresh water.
The natives lived by fishing and oyster to make jade crafts. Once month approached the town a businessman and permuted Grande Island oysters and indigenous jewelry
flour, wheat, sweet, tools and other items for subsistence. They knew they were cheated, but they preferred to travel themselves to the city
the rush.
welcomed me as if I knew of a lifetime. Nobody asked me who I was, where he came from or had a past. A candid look was the only passport.
Pierre's cabin was austere, like all modestly trimmed with a bed, a wardrobe and a sort of full-length mirror.
books stacked in every corner. A rustic table as big as the bed, half the board as occupied an old Underwood, a pile of papers and notes full of studs. Pierre is a writer and was in the island for months writing a novel. At one point you had an awkward silence came over to me, slowly stroked my cheeks with the back of his hand and kissed me so soft that I felt it more than feel it. I felt flushed, stammered. Started, and enjoyed the process of falling in love, laughter, cuddles. I disarmed when he kissed my eyes and tears in the light of the moon. At bedtime I was so nervous and insecure as a teenager.
The small porch of the cabin had a string hammock in the evenings I tended to listen the voice of the sea. I forgot my previous life. One day
anyone Pierre had been fishing out of curiosity, I approached the old typewriter, and to my surprise, I saw the title on the sheet medium
write: "The Fear of Agnes', I felt strange reflected to me in black and white, gratified and exposed. The first detailed
our meeting on the beach. I realized as I spoke in an environment of trust and confidentiality. I understood what already fled
not want to face. Despite
feel protected, respected, cared for, valued and loved primarily at dawn I went to the mirror, I took my picture and I left quietly,
without leaving a note on the pillow or clue that might give me away.
Now I keep thinking in the hammock, in the voice of the sea and the bronze torso Pierre darkening twilight ... And that's all history Mabel, my friend,
Do we ask another coffee?
"But ... why did you go from there? What impulse
you drove it back here, to your problems, your life routine?
"Fear," I replied.
- Fear?
"Yes, the worst of all," I said, opening my heart.
- How scary is that?
"The fear of being happy.
