Author: Katarina Stratford
Title: The Will of Diana
Rating: G Genre
: Nostalgic
Alerts: -
Note.
The term "head" of the title is intended as a "legacy"
sitting in that anonymous white taxi with the window down watching the city run before his eyes. That city where she grew up, who knew in detail but which had never been intimate. Like an old friend, as an old flame with whom you have never been lovers. A city that never slept, too enlightened, living and dying at the same time, the old building. He felt like a cigarette but it was not his car. From his jacket pocket he pulled out a sheet of paper folded in four.
was not surprised when they called his old high school to make a speech on the anniversary of 10 years of his promotion. This year he turned thirty and was the youngest woman to receive the Pulitzer Prize for publishing a series of interviews with famous artists and musicians that had marked the last century. A slow and meticulous work that followed a line reflective ui changes that had imposed the digital art. As good and evil. The car stopped in front
quell'imponente grammar school building was Giovanni Verga. Looking at the clock he realized to be a bit 'late. He paid the race and went to the heavy solid wood doors that go in two hundred years had seen thousands of students. The courtyard was empty and at the bottom of the large windows of the dining room lights up showing a crowd of smiling people who seemed engaged in a strange and slow dance, that of yours, one of the findings, one of the surprises. Children were running and the clink of glasses to get there. Alone in the courtyard for a moment and turned her nostrils were filled with air sandy who had accompanied his youth, he had breathed life even when he knew little or nothing, when he thought he could change the world from above, change people, perform miracles.
He pushed the glass door and entered the dining hall. So many faces that did not know that some time had slowly removed, which had faded and that suddenly came back vividly to mind. Passing between them could still see those kids that were long ago, oblivious to everything and at the same time confident of everything. He did not want to talk, he climbed on the small shelf and picked up the microphone. With two fingers he made sure it was accessible and took a breath. He pulled out his speech from his pocket and looking for a few seconds in silence all those people intent on reviving old memories, reliving moments long gone by now realized that in the end, his speech did not matter much.
began timidly.
"Mhh .. good evening to all. I wonder who remembers me. I'm Diana. I was asked to give a speech tonight, a sort of guide to what I have done in the past ten years, what led me to win this year's Pulitzer Prize for my book "Conversations."
I could tell you what I've done studies, such as cities I have visited, the determination that I put in my work. But if I speak of determination, then there is a story that I tell you, that the day I met my husband.
I had never been to France before. And I had never met before. I never met him but I already knew him. I knew him like we grew up together, like in the old courtyard out there I saw him too. As if he had attended every important moment of my life. At that time I was the anonymous girls, a little 'how I remember you. He did not. He was a famous musician. He made the covers of magazines, concerts, on concerts, interviews hundreds. Maybe that was more famous, maybe it was almost an idol.
Somehow I knew it would become part of my life. It was not a wish, it was a sort of premonition.
That night had been awarded for the last album that he and his group had produced, I had seen in a detached, almost cold in the ceremony. When I came out I went directly to the place where it was held just after a party reinforced for all participating artists at the event. I looked away from the entrance and a gust of wind went through my hair. It was the wind that brings the changes, the wind that calls the decisions. I was with other people but it was something that had to do alone. Because in the end is always alone who confronts his destiny, his own life.
arrived at the door asked me if I had an invitation. Simply said no. I play that he had "no" does not mean I do not know what you want but I put my eyes spoke of resolve, talking about certainties. They let me go inside. I was immediately uncomfortable. All the women around me had short dresses, plunging necklines, lace, gold and diamonds.
clenched in my hands the lonely mother of pearl around his neck and stood motionless a few seconds in the stream of people coming and going. I had this thirst and taken a cup. I did not want to sit down. Standing drank the contents and went to rest on the bar. I was looking at a picture on the wall when I felt a hand on my shoulder, I turned in surprise step, and my hair frustrated the person's face ever seen and yet have always known. Everything was done that night because things did not go as I wanted. The hours that followed were a series of words that would not make sense to report.
When the dawn rose in the sky of Paris, on a window sill unknown started a conversation that still remember.
"This is my favorite time of day. People prefer sunsets. Who knows why. People who like to finish things? I like to start with. "
"Would you be my start?"
The upshot of all this? Be
adventurers.
Run after your dreams, do not be afraid of their non-completion, each trip has its own goal, every trip has its way. You may not be what you had imagined, may not lead where you had thought. It will draw under your feet with every step you make, and each of these steps will take you where he should go unwittingly. Do not listen to your reason and do not listen to the words of others. Only the meaning, only the heart knows what is your place. And traveling, never tire of traveling, near or far it is, in places you've never seen, with people who have never met. Continue to look for what you have, even if you do not know what it is. Continue to be curious, wanting to find out. Never stop believing in something as this thing may seem futile.
And for this you do not need money, you do not need an elevated position to work overtime. Just as your mind. Escape from behind the walls of your home, you dream every moment of the day. And if you feel you have something to do, someone to meet, lots. Games without thinking about it.
Be free. Be the adventurers. "
not wait any longer, the audience around she had remained silent and motionless. He walked out without looking back, waved to a passing taxi and climbed over. All the way his head emptied of all thoughts. He arrived at the reception desk of his hotel. "Please, Mrs. Listing, his key."
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