I’ve got a small house. a tiny little white house with blue doors. on the summit of a hill. where you can see and especially listen to the sea. and the wind. in my garden I’ve got a beautiful and giant bougainville. maybe some hydrangeas too. but they dry up sometimes because I don’t water them regularly. I have a plum tree whose fruits I eat when they are still unripe. with salt sometimes. there is a big bedroom inside for all my stuff. with a big bed whose left side is always empty. then there is the living room. the kitchen. a comfortable bathroom for me with windows overlooking the sea. no opaque panes. no curtains. I love using the bidet while looking at the colour of the sky. and then there is another bedroom. a huge one. with many beds against the walls. a theatre of beds. and another big bathroom. with two sinks. or maybe three. for all my grandchildren who visit me every summer. I have to educate them. annoy them reminding them that they should eat fruit and vegetables. explain to them why they shouldn’t eat kinder eggs. we go to the bookshop and buy new and funny books to read in the evening. or to the cinema and see the romantic comedies I love so much. the only movies I love. or maybe watch them on dvd. pride and prejudice for example. but it depends. I don’t have any pet. juanita is dead. her bones are in a little box in my dining room. or maybe under a wonderful plant in the garden. it depends. I have a small van outside that I use when my grandchildren are here. although we use it only to go grocery shopping. I always go to the town on foot with them. in spite of the distance. even if we have to come back home at night. the route is safe. nobody ever bothers us. there is nobody at all actually. and as we walk on we have a lot of time to chat. and look at the stars. or at the clouds by night when they are much more beautiful than by day.
on many mornings. when I wake up. or in the afternoons when I come back. I look up. sky. ceiling. or sideways. wall. tree. shop window. it doesn’t matter. and I enter my little house. where there is always a great silence. like the one inside me. in my little house I still have to do the ironing and the cooking and the washing up. as usual. but I don’t make much of a mess. and I have a lot of time left to do the things I love. that amuse me. I also have a lot of time to look out of the window and remember. I have a lot of time to wait. I who have never been able to. although I prefer to distract myself. because it hurts in the long run. it makes you feel you are not important. I often go to the kitchen and eat a peach. the hairless kind. I smile. every time I eat one. then I cry. but above all. in my little house. I go to the door. blue. or maybe I will keep its original colour and let it age. like my hair. maybe even rot. I open the door. I look out. it is important the moment when I look outside. there is the sky. different every day. there are the clouds. a few birds. the wind sometimes. sometimes it rains. I am so happy when I look at the sky. I am the sky. and outside the door. right on one side. there is my bike. an old men’s bike with a top tube and a large and comfortable seat. wheel diameter 28. never used another. gearless. it is not made of a special material. it’s an old and comfortable and robust bicycle that nobody notices. even if it’s very beautiful. it’s plain. discreet. comfortable. with a huge basket on the front. to carry packages and stuff. you never know.
my bike... I am happy with her. I fly wherever I want. whenever I want. if nobody’s coming I ride on when the light is red. on the pavements. or in the meadows. but I prefer not to go there. you never see the holes in the grass clearly. or the stones. and a flat bike is not a bike any more. it becomes a bikeless me. just a body.

#FUKUROKUJU (fuku = happiness. roku = wealth. ju = longevity)

thanks to Selma. by Jutta Bauer. Kane/Miller.