The morning started tired and sick, trying to extricate himself from layers of dense fog as to be cut with a knife. A look carefully, beyond the window, it could be seen still alive and almost anything you would want to touch it and shape it, you take the desire to transform it with your hands in something good or at least more nice and helpful. But the fog can not be touched, much less amended So he stood there, like a pall to hide a strange spring that year showed very sad and shy.
My daughter is stationed to set a property somewhere in front of him towards the window, beyond the glass, as if he saw something really interesting to justify the loss of even a minute of your time. It is fair to point out that my daughter was a child of 4 years, so small as to have billions and billions of moments of time and to use as much as he wanted, as without the obvious suspicion that the time has an end. A point. An abyss of the unknown, like the one where I fall on that day.
was a child, my daughter, named Adelaide, was soft and plump as you wish it to be all the children at his age, had a small upturned nose to inspire affection and lots of kisses, and big blue eyes that changed tone together with light and shadow, as my long eyelashes, curly hair and blacks like his father. Until just before playing with some painted wooden puppets that I had found in the attic, going back to my childhood, and nothing would have been able to distract that day and all the others except that strange mist. What if he called, at least looking at it so much drive. Adele In fact, as I always called my husband's chagrin, rose slowly and turned to serious the outside. To watch, observe, listen carefully.
I realized almost immediately because of his immobility working on my sewing machine not far from her, always very careful not to leave alone in any room in the house as a girl child. I waited a moment, then called her "Adele?" But received no sign of response. After having requested a second time, I got worried, I got behind him without arousing the slightest attention from her, so that greatly increased my discomfort. By hand, gently touched the hair and I went down to look at her face. Only then Her eyes as blue as the bottom of the sea awoke from an apparent stupor, and with a smile full of white teeth and laughed joyfully "guadda mom! You piccoi piccoi !!!!" Unfortunately when I did not understand what he meant to my daughter, I saw that showed the glass of the window and I thought he was referring to the fog, what you could not see beyond it, I thought simply that his fertile imagination of a child had created something beautiful and wonderful, perhaps a fairy mist. I checked about and without conviction, then smiled and hugged me saying "you, dear, little baby! Smaller than you think a bit '"and then leave and return to my work sewing. She began to play with his eyes still intent on exploring the outside world, less and less interested in those wooden dolls that had belonged to my brother and me so many decades before. I was quiet, however, convinced that his thoughts were simple child's fantasy, so went back to work hard. They spent only a few minutes.
passed like a breath, a gentle breeze and unawareness of time. I did not know, but in those moments rushed into the void.
When I raised my eyes to control it, as usual, she was gone. Adelaide had disappeared from the room and immediately went looking for it in the rest the house. I explored every room, even where entry was not possible because the door was previously locked. Outside in the courtyard, where the static and suffocating fog hung on every flower every stone and blade of grass. The gate was closed and my desperation now through the roof as I screamed his name so as to draw the attention of someone. This one helped me to continue research without finding my baby, my curly Adele blacks and fickle eyes, my little young and imaginative. My husband called from work, not bother to issue a complaint disappeared and I stay here, to look beyond the glass of the same window from which to watch my daughter, now that many years have passed, waiting for spring to come back the same foggy that day. Yes, because in those cases I see again my dear ... Adele is now a small ladybug who returns home beaded with dew settles on the surface of the glass and wait for his mom to see her take her inside, warm, away from the fog , to be a bit 'together. All springs challenge for the vast wall of fog is always directed towards me, from his mother. I am sure that the day that Adele is gone, the window sill I found a ladybug as her ... only less red and pretty, but still tiny, only at that moment I understood what continuously watching and why it had abandoned its games. Adele asked the mist turned into a little ladybug, so she liked it, now I know and I just wait for the fog to see you back at least a bit and cuddle '.
* * GiorgiaM
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