MAGIC WORDS

Her job was to listen to people. After-hours to relax she would sit at her favorite bar, and have a glass of red wine, and talk. One day she told me, “your hot body, your good smile, your good fortune, your days, your dreams, your nights, the whole of you; a hungry river will take it all. It will be a beautiful morning, I hope, when these words will come out of your mouth, “EAT ME!” and the waters will swallow you. Whatever you do, whoever you are, the rivers, the deserts, the seas, the bogs, a quicksand, a fire, the Earth will take you. The world never rejected anyone or anything. The world gives you all what it has, the good vibrations, and once in a while, this means a good facelift, a new beginning, your atoms reorganize themselves, and you’re now a white lily, a rabbit, a wolf, a tear in one of the wolf’s eyes.”

I asked her, “What about Him?” I didn’t want to say His name. “Him, you mean Him?” she said, “well, everybody knows that He stood laughing when they put somebody else on the Cross to be crucified in His place.”

“Who told you that?” I asked her. “A good friend of mine, a priest,” she said. “How horrible a thought,” I said. “How beautiful,” she replied. “The Truth itself isn’t important. What’s important is the story, because that’s all we got, stories, tales, legends, myths, poems, songs, jokes, conversations… and even lies, and that’s all magic, and that’s the only magic there is, with dancing, and skipping, and running, and taking things and people for ourselves, before we give it all away.” She ordered two glasses of wine. “You’ll see,” she said, “I just uttered a few magic words, and soon we’ll each have wine to sip, and later we should go skipping. Imagine this: Two drunks skipping hand in hand, in the city.”

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[Picture: Red wine by reading_is_dangerous]