Story no. 1 in the Valentine's Day Series
Angelica looked up from the plates that she was wiping with a wet, threadbare tea towel. She peered outside through the small window and saw how the morning sun danced on the puddles. Everything seemed so peaceful now, very different to the night before, when the rain from the spring storm had thrashed against the corrugated iron sheeting of her shack. The storm had been so wild; making her wonder if it would tear her beloved home apart. Strangely enough, it made her smile. It wasn’t much of a house, and yet, it and everything inside were very dear to her.
Part 2 in the Helena Series
Still smiling, Helena walked over to the tiny oak sapling and knelt down beside it.
“Grandma,” she said again, only this time a little louder, “I’m so glad you’re still here.”
At the same moment, a breeze gently stroked her dark brown locks. To Helena it felt as if Grandma was talking to her by way of the wind. She smiled even more and took pleasure in the warm, glowing sensation she felt in her heart. Then, she stood up and walked slowly to the big oak that shaded the little oak from the heat of the afternoon sun.
Part 1 in the Helena Series
Eleven year-old Helena smiled contentedly at the rays of the summer sun trickling through the thick, leafy canopy of the live oaks. She loved walking along the shady lane that led to Grandma’s big mansion by the bayou, as it gave her time to forget everything and enjoy the tranquil beauty of the surroundings. She had been visiting Grandma – who was not her real grandma – at least once a week for as long as she could remember.
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Bianca said as she stood up and left the cafe terrace with a curt “goodbye”.
“Bye,” Giulia replied blinking her eyes to hold back the tears.
She watched her best friend walk down the street until she turned the corner at the other end of the square in the little Italian town where they both lived. Unable to enjoy the warm spring sun on her face, she looked back on the conversation that had ended only minutes ago. Why had they gotten so angry at each other, she asked herself. What had started as their weekly get-together, had turned into a quarrel over nothing, leaving both of them feeling hurt.
Many years ago, in a little mining town in the north, a newborn baby boy lay ill from pneumonia in his hospital cot. As the wind howled in the fjord outside, he gasped for air and longed for the loving warmth of his mother. Where was she? He felt her alright, even though she was not near, in the same way he could hear the comforting resonance of his father’s voice. Why then, could he not decide whether to live or die?