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.