Reflections on a window

And all you see, are those reflections on the window.

Fifty minutes ago the memory of those ancient days had come back to your memory and wantonly destroyed your imagination. There are times in life when you don't want to show up and just decide to give up, but that day, that precise day, wasn't like it. The blood was coming out of your hands as waterfalls and you couldn't hide your breathless walking. Screams all over the street. People dying. Nothing could be stopped. Suddenly, a magical sing came out of your heart and fear took over your mind: your sad situation always returning from your past, if it's possible to call it that way.

Matías- screamed the tough voice you had heard before.
Matías- screamed the little tiny sweet voice you knew very well.

Your parents were there, next to you, in the Hospital. Your hopeless heart beating made every minute of life to turn into one hour of anxiety. -Just don't give up- your mother said- Just don't give up - your dad repeated. You could hear them very clear but your spirit was far away from them. The paradox of life made you wish you to be with them but the greatness of your story made you brave and draw your destiny with such a precision that nobody would never repeat. You knew it but you loved it and that's why it was a paradox. No boundaries, you had the whole world in your hands, nothing else could've given you such a liberty.

Now you feel it. Now you breathe it. The smell of victory. This is how supreme nobility tastes like. This is how ignoble intelligence looks like. You have always wanted it. The almighty glory. Surprise. It doesn't satisfy you. It doesn't fulfill your requisites, so you decide to create a new one. You think of pleasure, you think of light but mainly, you think of her. And now that you have all the power you realize that all you ever wanted was her. You laugh. If only her could be defined in just one word. The only thing your limitless abilities can't complete is to bring the integrity of her to the present. She was just a gift of time, a gift from the ancient times. And now you know you can't have her, you'd like to go back to the Era of Plato, stealing from the air only particles of her perfume. You look back, and all you see, are those reflections on the window.