ILLUSIONE DI VITA REALE

Infinita l’illusione di noi, di un sogno fortemente desiderato. Tu mi insegni che, quando vuoi realmente qualcosa, si innesca nell’universo un meccanismo di forza tale da farlo realizzare.
Ho conosciuto tante persone caparbie al punto tale da ottenere l’impensabile. Conosco chi si è recato dall’altra parte del mondo a lavorare per salvare i diritti dell’umanità, conosco chi è stato coraggioso, abbandonando la convenienza economica, per guidare un trattore e godere della pace del sole che sorge.
Quando si desidera con il cuore non si ha paura di desiderare, muoviamo tutto l’entusiasmo affinché quel desiderio si avvicini a noi. Non esiste paura quando si desidera con nuda volontà, quando rivolgiamo il nostro pensiero alle stelle.
La paura è l'istinto che si padroneggia dei nostri sensi davanti all' ignoto. A mio avviso, è un segnale d'allarme importante: ogni volta che l’ho sentita è perché non ero di fronte a ciò che il mio cuore sperava per me; quando avevo paura di fronte ad una scelta, non era vigliaccheria, era solo il mio inconscio che mi avvisava, si proiettava al di fuori di me e mi diceva che ciò che pensavo di desiderare non faceva parte della mia volontà.
La tranquillità interiore e l’entusiasmo sono gli unici motori che mi muovono verso la concretizzazione di un sogno e che mi aiutano a vivere senza esitare.
E con te è stato così, ti ho amato dal primo istante, ti ho cercato con forza e ti vivo ogni giorno sognando, senza paura del cambiamento. Non importa cosa decideremo per noi, dove andremo, qualsiasi scelta non mi spaventerà, ma sarà un nuovo sogno di vita insieme.

Anna Valente

SOGNI PERDUTI

L’insofferenza quella sera si fece sentire nei loro cuori. Tutti i loro progetti si frantumarono contro la forza tagliente della cruda realtà. Si sentivano così lontani dai loro sogni, da ogni concreta realizzazione di un’unione serena.
Erano in macchina seduti l’uno a fianco all’altro e tra loro la presenza di una grigia malinconia. Dai finestrini si estendevano le campagne dorate della bassa padana. In lontananza un’abbazia, quasi sembrava di non essere nei pressi del capoluogo lombardo. Il fieno era disposto in una una linea retta perfetta, sul prato verde ben arato. Gli uccelli volavano a bassa quota. Tra loro ancora un pensiero comune: entrambi esclamarono: “ Guarda che meraviglia!”. Dal parabrezza si affacciava maestosa la rotondità di una luna brillante in contrasto con il cielo azzurro. Mai come quella sera era stato così limpido. Brillava davanti a loro quasi come magra consolazione, il barlume della nobile speranza.


Anna Valente

A WARM GLANCE BETWEEN MANHATTAN SKYSCRAPERS

THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I PUBLISH ONE OF MY TALES IN ENGLISH. I 'D LIKE TO GIVE TO ANYONE WILL HAVE THE PLEASURE TO, THE OPPORTUNITY OF RECEIVING AN EMOTION. I APOLOGIZE FOR MY ENGLISH , IF IT IS NOT THAT PERFECT, BUT I REALLY HOPE YOU WILL ENJOY READING MY WRITINGS

WARMEST REGARDS.
ANNA VALENTE

It’s 1.00 o’ clock a.m of a very hot Friday. It’s summertime and the muggy weather is covering people in Manhattan. Tracy is sitting at a table inside Charly’s, on the 44th. Almost every sit is filled of people. Behind the lunch counter the barman is playing freestyle with glasses. Customers push each others to order an old whisky or a beer. There is also the same person who hopes to find a sexy woman and who flings with her by blowing his breath on her neck. At the bottom of the bar, on the top, there is a band playing and the singer is a look-alike of Jimi Hendrix. The waitresses on hostess duty pass among the tables very fast and they gets crazy to take orders using a hand held device. The double doors look like those of a Mexican saloon; they don’t stop to be opened and then shut heavily.

Behind the windows, there is the lightened Broadway: it looks almost magic even if it is frenetic. The street is filled with people coming and going, people walking fast, shy people who gave up and revengeful people, teenagers smiling and drunk people, easy women and people looking for a moment of affection. There are also dogs looking for a new place to pee.
It’s still soon on the Broadway. Music and sounds are noising. Cars speed very fast and there is also who drinks with pleasure by walking down the street.

Daniel wears a short-rocker black leather coat and holds a bottle of beer.

He enters Charly’s bar, wants to eat a cheeseburger. He just wants to make his stomach feel full, to reduce the high alcoholic level and to listen to a good music. He passes by the tables and takes a seat right in front of Tracy.
She holds a beer, then she stands up. She walks to the front of the stage. She starts dancing, looking crazy, shaking her head, moving her hips and jumping. She sweats, but feels alive in her confused environment.

Daniel stares at her attracted, studying the details. She wears a very slim vest that reveals her tiny and young breast, some shorts that show her pale legs; her red hair is messy, she holds a leather bag. The way she wears her closes is not accidental. She had paid attention to each detail: it is detectable by giving a look to the belt and the shoes that are perfectly matching.

The musician takes a rest and she goes back to the table. She takes a breath. She opens the menu, examines it, then snaps it shut and lays it on the table. She has actually no need to open it. She already knows what to order. She asks the waitress for another beer. She raises her eyes from the table and looks at the young man sitting in front of her. Their eyes meet each other. His thinness makes him look elegant, his eyes are blue and he has very black and long hair clashing. The features of his face are so perfect that he seems made of a cold perfection. His beard is not shaved, making him appear a little bit more ordinary. He looks at Tracy’s red and perfect drawn lips. She feels embarrassed and she tries to look at around, but he doesn’t stop gazing at her. The band starts playing again and she finds an excuse to move herself away from his eyes. She goes far from him. She goes to the band and she drinks the iced beer. She trembles when she feels a warm hand on her shoulder. She is afraid to turn her head towards the person who’s touching her. Someone over passed her privacy frontier. She is motionless, thinking that the hand had been pasted on her shoulder for too many seconds. She would like to move fast and to push away that feeling. At the same time she hopes that the hand’s owner would be the man who looked at her few seconds ago. She turns on the opposite side from the presence she feels, without taking a glance. She puts the beer on a table and she takes the exit. She goes out from Charly’s and the doors close behind her. Tracy walks fast. It’s very hot in Manhattan, where people are condemned not to sleep and to look for a answer in their own life. She turns right at the corner and crosses the 47th. She stops next her house’s door. She sits downs on the stairs of her Colonial house to smoke a cigarette. She looks for the lighter in the bag without finding it; maybe she forgot it in the bar. She stands up and checks better her pockets. Nothing. She sits down without any hope and she puts again the cigarette inside the package. She feels again the already known warm at her right side. Once again a hand shows her a lighter. Now she looks at the man who owns blue iced eyes, they are deep like the sea. He says “hi” and smiles. He puts his Gibson next to the stairs and sits down close to her. Their eyes meet one more time, trying to discover each others. There is silence between them and they feel embarrassed. You can feel only the street’s noise. It’s fucking hot in the Manhattan, choked by skyscrapers and by people looking for a new unexpected date.

ANNA VALENTE