He dragged his feet, questioning his life’s decisions. First, the old man encouraged him to believe in muses as a source of poetry; now he told that poetry is about throwing stones and facing the consequences, “Ironically, he’s not facing any consequences.”
He could see the door of the residence opening, three girls coming out in distress and rage. They looked familiar to him but he couldn’t place them in this memory. He kept dragging his feet. He knew there was no need to hurry, in fact, he wished time would stop. “When was the last time I talked to a girl?” He pondered and his mind reminded him of his muse, of the dreams and mantras, of the moment in which he heard the voice of inspiration, “hush! I mean a real woman, and in fact when was the last time he spoke to an angry woman?”
“What’s wrong with you?” A redhead interrupted his thoughts. “Why on earth would you break our window? You could’ve hurt any of us!”
He remained silent for the next few seconds. They felt like an eternity, “should I tell exactly what happened? Should I come clean, and accept the consequences of choosing as a friend a poet who has no problem in breaking windows to make a point! To make a point, to make a point.
“I am truly sorry, I can’t…” his voice cracked, “not explain what got into me. I would like to cover the cost…”
“You cannot explain it? What? Were you drunk or high in the past two minutes and now you’re all sobered up?” The girl kept running over Alan, “of course, you’ll be paying for the window, and apologising to all of us.”
“Of course,” he nodded in resignation.
They gestured for him to approach, and as he did he could hear, ‘thud, thud, thud.’ The wiggling tail of a happy golden retriever puppy waiting for them behind the door. As soon as he entered the residence, the dog giddily greeted him. He petted the dog, and his heart was confused, anxious and happy. The dog remained by his side. From the hall a voice, owning two bright blue eyes, came out, “her name is Dorte.”
Alan had never experienced a situation like this, he was explaining that he had broken the glass by accident without really explaining what were the reasons, or how it happened. The redhead girl kept attacking him and pushing him to explain himself, ‘thud, thud, thud’ and between apologies and ineffable excuses he endured what cannot be explained, not even imagined.
“Now I feel like a Baroque book, pages and pages of text where nothing happens,” he tried to communicate his thought to Dorte, who seemed to be the one who liked him in that hall.
“Is it male or female?” he asked as soon as he caught a break from the reprimands.
“Of course SHE is a girl!” The redheaded exploded, “this is a girls’ residence!”
He just nodded, he had no energy left to continue with the apologies.
“Fine, I apologised, I will take the measurements of the window, and will take care of having it fixed as soon as possible.” He finally said in a definitive tone, “can I borrow a broom and a measurement tape?” He knelt by the window, and started gathering the pieces of broken glass from the floor. Dorte followed him, and for her he was just playing. She softly mouthed his hands, “oh you little baby shark,” he answered by scratching behind her ear.
Most of the girls went on with their lives, “great, they left me alone here, would someone show me out, or what?”
“She likes you,” the blue eyed girl said and handed him a small broom and a plastic bag. “Would you mind taking her for a short walk?” He eyed her. Her eyes didn’t hesitate; they pierced him with sweetness, “I need to get ready for a date, and she needs to fertilise the park.”
“I don’t know, I have never walked a dog before, I have never had a dog.”
“It is not hard, she will tell you most of what you have to do, and she will act as if it is you who is leading, just trust her.”
“Life is about throwing disruptive stones and facing the consequences, he said, he dismissed my mantras and muses. He was wrong, life is about sowing and waiting for the harvest.” He thought. The blue-eyed girl didn’t take a no for an answer and was preparing Dorte for her walk. “Stones, or seeds, throwing or sowing, bah all is the same, all is us making choices.”
“She’s ready, she’ll take to her usual place, just make sure she doesn’t eat anything on her way.” He grabbed the leash and Dorte sat by his side with the basso continuo: ‘thud, thud, thud.’ “I can do this, I choose to do it.”
“Enjoy the walk you two! Remember, the joy is letting yourself be guided by her, for half an hour, you’ll see what it feels to live without the need to decide.” The door closed, and he followed Dorte.
“I wish you could explain what has happened,” he said aloud, Dorte looked at him, “can you understand me?” And she cocked her head, “very well Dorte, where should we go?” Dorte firmly pulled him, not mischievously, not in a naughty way. Simply firmly. “I see you do know where we’re going. I can’t believe even a dog knows that better than I do,” Dorte snorted at him, as in saying ‘don’t self-pity, it is wrong.’
As soon as she saw the park, she ran. The leash was at least seven meters long, Alan dragged his feet, and she sat down waiting for him. Then he saw her eyes. Inviting. His heart synced to anxiety and happiness again, and then. Dorte broke her seriousness, and smiled. No words, no muses, no jobs, no expectations, nothing else in the entire cosmos mattered, only those few seconds when she smiled, and he ran to meet her. To be chosen by a dog.
[He]
Oh well, it’s a fact,
My suspicion from the very start.
And I feared,
Your paws would burn deep into my heart.
And I knew,
You would steal my nights and my days,
And so now,
Life begins always from your gaze.
[Dorte]
I am like water, letting rivers always take with them,
I see that life gives me a rose for every thorn that I sense.
[He]
Another fact,
My north was lost in your eyes,
Now I see,
For you alone I’ll need a thousand lives.
And I knew,
I would nurse even the air you inhale,
And so now,
You light up all plots in my tale.
[Dorte]
Now, softly look into my eyes,
Just stare no questions to be asked,
Feel what you cannot hold inside,
Let your joy shatter your sadness and your masks.
[He]
No me dejes sólo, que sin ti no sé que hacer[2]
Y quédate en un ladito donde yo te pueda ver[3]
[Dorte]
Let your fears be waves that fade away
Feel you’re the wind in the middle of the sea
For life is a treasure, there’s nothing else to say.
Until it is Sunday again,
—Rene
[1] Inspired by Cuando tus ojos me miran, Franco de Vita
[2] Do not leave me alone, without you I don’t know what to do
[3] Stay by my side, where I can see you
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