eighth floor
I hit the wrong elevator button. On purpose. I wanted it to take me to the eighth floor. But not this one, another.
The eighth floor of that magic button that I pressed every night, closed my eyes and lived again, for a few seconds, all the love that came to me and invaded me.
First, second, third… I listen to the children’s laughter, I see the bright eyes of their father, I feel his hand squeeze mine.
Fourth, fifth… In the alleys of the City of Light, we run. The wind disarms my hair, we suck lollipops and we play pinball.
Sixth, seventh… The bottles of wine and the little candles, the incredible friends, the good conversations, the kisses. The cool night makes my dress flutter and wraps me around as I walk back home, happy.
I open my eyes, the sign announces: eighth floor. But not that one, another.
::::::::
[This is an English version from the original article > [oitavo andar]
::::::::
Did you like the article? You can clap (one to 50 times!), comment or share and make the text reach more people.
