Now

Here, now I see myself alone, in a room furnished with toys, books and notebooks of a child who has now grown up, has become a woman. That little girl a few years ago had to deal with many question marks, yes, those big columns that if you look at them raising your head upwards you can't see the end, if they have one.

For the little girl the question marks were like living beings free to move and to frighten anyone and even if she was in the presence of her parents who protected her in every way, she did not feel at all calm and safe. In fact, she had the distinct feeling of being followed.

In the courtyard, in the garden of the house where he spent whole days often chasing butterflies or following that long tail of ants that always made the same path: corner of the house, rocking chair to finally continue on the trunk of his favorite tree.

She considered them "monsters" because she imagined them as big, ugly, smelly and very terrifying beings also for their grumpy and incomprehensible way of doing things. Of course, for children everything is scary, like the dark or even the shadow of a piece of furniture that is backlit turns into a monster that remains there as if to say: "today I don't want to make you sleep" and the children who hide under the blankets of the bed with the hope of finding a fairy to help them chase the shadow that scares them so much.

For the little girl, those monsters were the most horrible and disgusting thing that scared her the most, because she was not afraid of anything, in fact she was not afraid of the dark like other children of her age, she was not afraid of spiders or reptiles that although dangerous in a sense, he admired them.

She was not even afraid of heights, on the contrary she liked being high up, higher and higher like cats, she was not afraid of everything around her but was terrified at the mere thought of having to see even a single question mark, a trivial and simple keyboard sign, a question mark.

Over the years the little girl grew, as did the house where she lived her best leaf fights at which she always won, even those made with the father she adored so much. The city grew up where he took long walks on long tree-lined avenues and with gardens and streets with gravel where he learned to ride a bicycle with wheels and a tree-lined lane where he learned to ride a bike without wheels creating clouds of poor people as tall as his father himself not even to surpass him as he went fast who coughed at will to close the mouth at which corners were created the dimples of the smile.

Thanks to the shop windows, which seemed to have a whole world inside, because they were immense and had a huge corridor where you could ride a bicycle as it was big and wide, despite the presence of people it managed to go like lightning without any accident.

Every single shop, when it managed to break away from the frenetic confusion of reality, every time it entered it, almost always stopped with its arms dangling along the body and changed position when it no longer felt its arms or legs because it was asleep.

Sometimes she would put herself in a very funny way, for a little girl or one hand resting on the column and the other hand on her hip while her feet crossed like those of a dancer with the entrance with sliding doors behind her to look as if enchanted that complicated junction of escalators.

Thus it was that he met his friends, in a casual clash of newspapers (or which he believed at the time to be such) and the old ones whose names or faces he could not remember; both of the new ones that unfortunately she did not see so often due to the distance and despite her character, despite her shyness she managed to bond a lot thanks to them, so much so that they became best friends and inseparable.

Thanks to these new friends including Luce, her best friend who fortunately lives almost next door to hers and Chande, a particular child with whom she spent a lot of time, was able to open up to the world by seeing him, for the first time in a different way, in a way that before he didn't even know it existed but that now accompanies it as if it were the most important thing, HIS thing: Joy.

Joy: one word, five letters, one meaning, but that for her was the most important thing of everything and everyone. Joy allowed her, over time, to laugh in the face of the anger she felt towards those who wanted her to be different, who she wanted to be more shy and introverted towards others and not what her character required her to do. : to transgress despite everything and everyone because she was not like the others who lowering her head it was as if they said << okay, I do what you want >>.

She was different, not in a negative way but on the contrary she was different because despite paying for everything she did she continued to go against the rules, not to do everything they told her to do, who took advantage of her for her sweetness or to have his own advantage, thus exploiting his naive goodness.

Joy gave her the possibility to understand who to remove and who to let remain in her life, it allowed her to distinguish what she believed to be reality from the real free spirit from the one bound and forced to submit to others.

In short, Joy allowed her to grow from an emotional and sentimental point of view.

Clycia is now big, a tall girl with slender but not too long legs, athletic body, perfect hands not too squat or small but not long and thin, sweet face so angelic as to confuse many about her age, with clear eyes that change color as they go. from very light blue to emerald green with the end of the iris of an intense dark blue that alternates with light brown.

The French small nose, mouth that looks like a cherry in the shape of a heart and that when he smiles, dimples are created and when he looks at photos in which he smiles they remind her very much of her father, with the chin squared in the right places but with a scar that it caused her unbearable pain during her childhood and that she will never forget because it caused him such a deep pain that she could no longer trust anyone, not even the friends she has known for many years.

She has smooth skin with scattered freckles here and there that are only seen against the light and the same color as porcelain. She is beautiful, really beautiful like a landscape to take your breath away or make someone go bump into a pole or a person while walking. She is unique as a one-of-a-kind piece.

Yet so perfect in appearance, inside she is tormented by the past and in her eyes spring seemed late winter, and not that winter with the white and soft snow, but the one with the icy wind and snow storm where the flakes cut you the warm flesh and tear the soul like pieces of glass on the soft wool, as well as his memories that contract in his mind like the winding mountain roads.

* AUTHOR'S SPACE *
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