Something Stupid

Превод: Alexandrina Dimova

4.50   (8 гласа)

The scorching summer air is heavy and humid. Large raindrops suddenly start to fall, staining the hot concrete. The summer storm rages and I rush toward the wall of an old building. The roof shelters me from the pouring rain. My glaze slides over the torn posters someone had glued on the wall. I meet a pair of familiar eyes which bring memories to life.


I took the key out of my pocket as soon as I reached my gradma’s door. The green paint was peeling. I started struggling with the rusty lock. It always stuck. I could call the neighbor for help but I was too afraid he’d ask why I came. And I had no idea what to answer.

It was nice to spend the summer in this village. I’d been thinking about that for a while and I just came. I knew it wouldn’t be as good as before because I was no longer a child and my grandmother was no longer alive, but the house was still there and so were the memories. I was hoping to breathe in some dusty happiness.

The lock clicked and the door opened. The yard was filled with grass but I could see some hyacinths and daffodils here and there. I smiled at them as I walked toward the house. Its white door was more enthusiastic to meet me. I entered and took a deep breath. I sneezed. There was dust but happiness was nowhere to be seen...

I was still searching for it in drawers and boxes when the night peeped through the window. Having looked through all the pictures without finding any happiness, I decided to go out and look at the stars for a while. Warm night. Clear sky. Thick darkness. No unpleasant city lights. No noice. The crickets were singing. Hyacinths generously poured their fragrance into the air.

I remembered another starry night. Maybe it was the only one I spent with Henry. I must confess I was secretly hoping to see him today. I was wondering if he’d changed. He certainly had since he left…

It was a summer night. No hyacinths. The earth beneath our feet smelled like sun. The neighbor’s son was about a foot taller than me. He hadn’t told me a word before but he came to play football with me on the empty street. Once we got tired, we sat on the wooden bench in front of his house and talked until midnight. I didn’t remember about what. What did remain in my memory were his dimples and smile.

“Goodnight, beautiful”, he said before he left. I never forgot that.

We didn’t meet again because I was always studying and he never said hello.

The following summer, I looked through the window and saw him playing football with several boys his age. He didn’t look at me. Then I stopped looking at him and I turned my eyes toward the capital. I would move to Sofia after I graduated from high school.

I last saw Henry when I got my high school diploma six years ago. I thought he came to watch the graduation ceremony just to kill time. When he later came to the restaurant I thought he was some girl’s date

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