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Excerpt
Life’s Riverbed
Square Table.
2 persons, 4 places.
One for the handbags; one
empty place.
The plate was in front of
Sophie.
Marianne was sitting in
front of her, speaking so much that Sophie could not hear it anymore:
“Why you don’t move to Tokyo? There you could learn Japanese and work as a teacher. Or you could move to France, learn French and work as a teacher too. Or stay where you are, but work as a teacher in a school. Any school. But what you do, this what you do now, will bring you nowhere. It is not even a street with an ending. It is not a path anymore. The world doesn’t need creators, we already have everything we need in this world.”
“Why you don’t move to Tokyo? There you could learn Japanese and work as a teacher. Or you could move to France, learn French and work as a teacher too. Or stay where you are, but work as a teacher in a school. Any school. But what you do, this what you do now, will bring you nowhere. It is not even a street with an ending. It is not a path anymore. The world doesn’t need creators, we already have everything we need in this world.”
Sophia was looking at her
plate…
Looking at the food on her
plate.
It was like the kind of thing
where you need more calories to chew and swallow, than the calories that the
food itself contains.
Like Marianne’s words.
No wonder that Sophie was
tired. It was exhausting.
Sophie had her own small
atelier, where she made custom dresses. She
thought about each one of her little growing pallet of clients.
After many years, Marianne
decided to visit her, and Sophie was anxious about showing her the new
collection.
Sophie’s small pallet of
clients was happy.
And this made her happy,
too. Growing step by step with her own
business, she was happy.
She already had a friend
to speak with about it, Lidia.
Lidia was an art student
who liked to spend her free time in Sophie’s atelier, speaking about fashion
and ideas. They helped each other in the
past and Lidia used to say that they were like ‘sisters in art’.
Lidia rented a room to use
as her own painting atelier, in the same building, and they liked to speak
about art and fashion, a lot. And, to
see each other’s work.
Sophie did not know why
she accepted this lunch invitation from Marianne, after spending all morning
hearing the same advice from her, about her atelier.
For lunch: Fancy Place, Fancy People, so Sophie chose her
most beautiful dress. Made by her own
hands. Persons turned to look at her,
when she passed by, but Marianne did not notice that.
Sophie had brushed her
hair 100 times, to have it bright and beautiful.
While she was trying to
eat, her sister Marianne continued vomiting her world-view all over her.
Which made chewing her
food even more difficult.
Life seemed to be just a
letter, or a few words, in the metaphor of the Earth’s biography.
The Earth has a biography, what we see is a just a metaphor of it, and human
life seemed to be just a small, minimal, part of this metaphor.
Sophie, hearing Marianne’s
words, felt as would she be just a letter in the alphabet of a foreign language
that no one seems to speak anymore.
With her life, just a few
words in the metaphor of the Earth’s biography.
Just a small part of it.
She wanted to speak about
her ideas, and to have the approval and admiration of her sister. The love of her sister. Maybe her sister would like to wear one of her
new creations?
The same sister that used
to brush her hair and dress her like a princess.
The same sister that
showed her how to make a dress for a doll. The same sister who explained to her that
dresses were not made always in series by machines, but that they were
creations.
But, with the first dress she
wanted to show Marianne this morning, the answer was: “I know your dresses already.”
As would they all be the
same, since she made the first dress for a doll when she was 6 years old, under
her sister’s advice.
And now, the same advice
again…at lunchtime.
It was exhausting. Marianne had changed. Life changed her.
Marianne had become
dreamless.
Sophie ordered water.
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