When Giuseppe woke up on the day after he had spoken to Mr. Frankston on the phone, he intuitively reached for the cowry shell hanging around his neck. With his eyes still closed, he gently rubbed the shell between his fingers and tried to recall what he had dreamed about last night. It did not take long for images to flood his mind’s eye.
All of a sudden, he found himself standing in a wheat field. Thousands of wheat stalks swayed in a rhythmic motion along with the wind. Something behind him drew his attention, and as he turned around, he was surprised to see a beautiful young woman in between the wheat stalks no more than ten metres away from him. She was twisting and turning with her eyes closed while the wind played with her long, chestnut coloured, sun-bleached hair. Slowly, he approached her. At the same time, she turned around for him to see her lovely brown skinned face.
“My eternal love,” he spoke softly to her in Italian.
Although he saw she did not understand what he was saying, he sensed she understood what he meant.
His heart glowed, spreading the most delightful sensation all over his body. She did not answer in words, but a voice inside him spoke for her: ‘Gio, we meet again, my love’. Giuseppe moved closer, gently placed his right hand on her cheek and, closing his eyes, he tenderly kissed her full lips. When he opened his eyes again, she was gone.
It was then that Giuseppe returned from his dream to the present moment. He opened his eyes and sighed. Then he looked outside through an opening between the curtains. The winter sun shone softly, lighting up the wall opposite his bed in a golden hue. The same colour as the wheat field in his dream.
“It’s been such a long time, Bee,” he whispered, wistfully.
The words had only just rolled over his lips when he felt the urge to take action. He had wasted enough time giving in to disappointment, and now the time had come to take the reins and create a happy life for himself. So, it was with a sense of elation that he jumped out of bed and hurried over to the side table where he kept his phone. He was going to take Mr. Frankston up on his offer.
Intermezzo from Cavelleria Rusticana, Pietro Mascagni
‘Fields’ by Pipo99 on Freeimages.com
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