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Malcolm

12 Aug

Today could be the first day of the rest of my life! Silly you, it IS the first day of the rest of your life, how about making it special? OK, let’s start with a great breakfast. Shopping for a lovely brunch. Checking what’s up today… nothing much, so how about a photo challenge in the city. Today will be… pink! Let’s make a photo series on “pink”.

Too excited about the photo challenge to take the time to prepare breakfast, rushing to the bakery to pick up something to eat on the way. Cakes with pink icing. Challenging to take the picture through the glass window with artificial light. A bit awkward to get the camera out in the bakery… the baker seems to be interested. She’s good with pastries but her shop looks a bit old-fashioned, she feels it’s getting dusty and would find it fun to re-hype it. Starting with the windows. If I’ve got some ideas about redoing her whole place? Me? Euuuh sure, we could think of something together, maybe? He can surely come up with some ideas, but he’s not a pro… She’s into DIY, not into hiring fancy designers; she’d rather trust people she gets a good feeling with. Feeling? Today shapes up like a very interesting day. OK, so how about that: I take a couple of pictures, try to arrange a poster and we could meet later today to discuss how to revamp the place? 18h to give her some time after closing the boutique.

Can’t believe it, I’ve got a date! I had a crush on the baker since she moved in this shop, used to be a terrible place and she turned it into his favorite Sunday morning rendez-vous. He had thought of engaging a conversation, a while back, when he felt like seeing people again, after… Mary’s death. Still hurts so much to say these words. But that was years ago and now this pain feels like an old friend, he’s carrying it everywhere, all the time, but it somehow got into a peaceful spot. Nostalgia and good memories, his broken heart healed a bit, although he can still feel the stitches that put the pieces back together.

And now he was excited like a teenager, about his date with the baker! Hold on, is she even single? Somehow, he does not know anything about her life… never dared asking or chatting. Felt silly when thinking of trying to. Guess he’ll soon find out, if they were going to be friends… So now, taking pictures, thinking of a theme for the bakery. Fairy tale-ish pink? Nah, too much sugar kills the sugar. Old fashioned boutique? Nah, she’d look older than she could, he can’t have her transformed in “happy grandma”. Vintage? Vintage was cool, a good seller; she was probably a very sexy girl in the 70s, that gave a touch of naughtiness to the style, and orange cakes could work pretty well in this country. Let’s work on vintage. Pink, we said was the theme of the day, let’s mix pink, orange, brown and yellow. No too bad!

And so the day flew by, on a stream of creative ideas. Came 18h, he went to pick up the baker with a set of print outs. His heart fluttering. But not quite sure. Not sure what she was about. Although she mentioned feelings. No, she said feeling, a good feeling, maybe it’s nothing at all… Turning the last corner to the bakery’s street. And there she is, wearing a lovely dress, some hints of makeup… and the prettiest smile he had seen in ages. Yes, it’s a date!!

Kristina

12 Aug

Kristina. Astrologer. The brand new door plate looks nice. Shiny. Can’t help smiling every morning when I get here. It’s me. My office. And my job. Yep.

Some people might call me a crook. I rather consider myself as a dream seller. It’s an interesting balance between telling the customer what he wants to hear and saying what he already knows, the art being in making it not sound obvious. It has to come as a revelation, from the other person, not as a given from me. Subtle. Managing a bit of suspense, planting some obstacles in the way of the conclusion. Quest designer, that’s what I am. Lighting up little parcels of randomness that shine like the white pebbles in the fairy tale, guiding people on the way of life. Make people spot them, recognize them as signs and walk the way with a lighter heart.

And make a bit of money, too, sure. Just enough to rent the attic upstairs, that perfect take off place for my own dreams: looking out of the windows and watching other people’s lives under the tin roofs, in the fancy apartments below the maid’s rooms, down in the street where they hurry in all directions like busy ants or linger on benches. Imagining their life’s stories, over and over again.

Astrologer is not an easy job, but it’s fun and very creative: it’s like living a hundred stories a week and working on a better ending. Time to start my day! Getting my morning tea while waiting for the first client. Early clients are always special. And here she comes. A woman, in her 50s. She looks grey as if the light has been switched off her. Betting on a love story, I look at her very carefully. Her big blue eyes. My heart skips a beat. She talks. I can’t make much sense of what she says, hypnotized by these blue eyes. Picking up some keywords. Child. Gone. Left without a note. She has looked everywhere. Now trying this. Why not? Sure, why not. Let’s see. Focus on your runaway child and pick up a card. The sun, good! She’s happy and shining away. No evil befell her. She’s fine, no worries. Why does she not call or write? Send some kind of message? Second card. Hermit. She needs some time on her own to build peace and confidence again. To follow up with her story. Something happened and she’s got to digest it. Give her time.

The woman is lost in her past now. Dreaming away. When she gets back to the present, she seems to wake up. Her eyes fall on my blue eyes. And she understands. I can feel her heart skipping a beat. She opens her mouth but closes it, respecting my decision. She knows and I know that she knows but she lets me do the first step if I’m ready. No hostility, no offended pain, only hope. Hope that happiness would flow again, as easy and generous as the morning sun in summer. Right. It’s time for summer to come back.

Hi Mum, missed you too!

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