The Passage

She walked so slowly, on the sidewalk. In the house, everyone waited for her to go by. She was dainty and discrete. The form-fitting grey skirt contoured her body. The silk blouse stirred gently against the warm wind. Away from the street, she did not undo her smile, aware of the effect it had caused. The small steps sometimes became larger ones. One day, she no longer went down the street. Not in that area. It would never be known if she missed the looks that venerated her every afternoon; the no need for words that her consideration she awakened. The instant had taken her. Not once would she go down that street again. The warm breeze still hopes to brush against her fair and slim body. After her, everybody was gone too. Occasionally, I meet her in an impossible threshold, in a gathering without territory. Neither am I ever going to go down that street again.

ARCOVERDE, Helena Sobral. The passage. In: blog Helena Arcoverde. Translation: SCHLEMM, Martha. Curitiba, 2013.stree