Night and Day

The ones and the others

Nonwoven fabric is similar to fabric, but it is not a fabric.

It’s not like the story of the blind man who bumped into something that looked like a lion, smelled like a lion, had a lion’s mane, a lion’s tail, roared like a lion and… it really was a lion; the lion was sated, licked his hand.

Here, the story is a short-not-short-story, which I cannot post as a short story: Medium Administrators do not allow Indians and Brazilians to use the Partners Program.

So it goes as a long-short-story.

Hard times; at night, even if the moon shines, if the sky is full of stars, for me everything is grey, rains all night, rain of worries.

It takes me a while, but I manage to sleep, I wake up from a dream I don’t remember, but I know it wasn’t good,


I roll over in bed, I take a nap, I wake up again, I go to pee, I struggle a little, I take a nap again, and so on until sunlight penetrates through the shutter. I stretch out, get out of the warm bed, wrap myself up, do my ablutions, and happily go out into the intense cold here.

Brilliant sun, happy blue sky, I see everything clearly, even details of the distant horizon, I’m glad for the blessing of perfect vision, I go for a walk with my dogs, sipping what’s left of the winter sun, looking around, I stop with my face in the sun, I close my eyelashes letting its rays awaken and increase my endorphins, receiving doses of vitamin D; goodbye depression, goodbye anxiety.

I sit in the sun to read a book; nearsighted I put on my glasses, happy to have them and only need them for this.

I know that something, a miracle, will solve all problems, if not today, then later,

and that tonight I’m going to sleep peacefully, that good dreams will decorate my night.

Nights and days.



Flavio Musa de Freitas Guimarães

Already watching the eighty-eight turn of the Earth in curtsy around its King, I’m an engineer that became a writer, happy, in perfect health, body and mind.