Author: Lea Blažević, Klasična gimnazija, Zagreb
And as the wind caresses my hair, I realize how grateful I can be for this bare moment. While his fingers are slowly dancing on the piano, I’m closing my eyes, trying to separate the loud bird song from the tune that he creates. I grabbed a dandelion from the ground and turned back to the window. I closed my eyes and made a wish. I can tell you, for the first time in my life I did not wish that this sadness passes because in this exact moment it was not here anymore. I wished that these seconds of my life never go away. I grabbed my camera and caught him, together with the green backround, feeling sorrow for the fact that one plain photo cannot catch and save this divine melody that embodies me. I looked at his long, bony fingers that were slowly rolling over piano keys, so smooth, and his brown hair that playfully danced with the wind, and his green eyes that perfectly fit in the whole picture. The tears blurred my sight, I had to close my eyes to chase them away. But it was so painful. The fact that he will disappear as soon as I lose focus was tearing me apart, but I also knew that I had to let him go. My eyelids slowly closed replacing the perfection of nature and him with the complete darkness. Darkness, oh darkness my new friend.
He is not here.
I opened my eyes and really, he was not there. I grabbed the camera praying that he will be in the picture I took moments ago. But he was not there, nor was his black piano, with whom he spent so many hours. And finally, I blew that dandelion I still had in my hand. Each small parachute from it flew merrily in the air, except for two of them, they were stuck stubbornly to each other. Gently, I grabbed them with my fingers and blew again. They flew in the air, danced their last dance, just like he and I, and then were, finally separated and blown away. A painful moan erupted through my lips.
