That time we were forced to do the same path, again. The seagulls above us flied in all directions, drawing white spirals in a burning glint; the sun hurt but nobody noticed that. You were the only one who paid attention to that dead flight.

The water was getting colder and everyone, with an idle calm, was waiting for the hot current to come and take us, like every year. 


But you hated the hot water, you couldn’t stand it.

I heard – you often said – that the cold currents show the most beautiful seas, the new lands, the glaciers. Could you imagine that?

I had the illusion that fantasize for you was enough, that your thoughts were just dreams. Curious and careful, nobody could understand you; even I couldn’t, sometimes. At least, I pretended to be mad because I couldn’t manage to understand you.

But I stayed close to you and, quiet, I looked at you for hours, while the current dragged us, watching the blades of the sun penetrating into the water. But you were absence and you felt oppressed by the hug of that hot waters. You watched with admiration that big shoals swimming towards the North. You were dreaming.

Honestly, I could understand you, but I was scared.


Thinking about that moment, I couldn’t say what happened.  What pushed you to go away.


You were there, next to me. How many leagues did we travel together? I always thought that one day, looking back to find you, I wouldn’t see you anymore. Many times I watched you a little worried, ready to stop you. But I knew that someday I would lost you.

I wanted to lose you. I saw you getting away to the safest blue, and I pretended not to be aware of it, I didn’t stop you. If I called you, maybe you would notice that prodigy. But you were so beautiful and I saw you. And you ere blue. Blue in that immense blue. And for the first time I saw you swimming, picking a direction. I didn’t try to follow you, I couldn’t, I didn’t know how. The current wasn’t strong, it was always the same, nobody ever tried to leave it, to go out from the imaginary line that we followed every single year. You disappeared, slowly; maybe you were firm, while the current was getting me away from you. But even that staying firm would be a rebellion. No, I’m sure you swam and you are still doing it. You turned back, and even if I couldn’t see you, I felt a tear. How could a tear be in an ocean? The water is always water for whom doesn’t hear.


Days after your departure, the sea arose on us and we were pushed against each other. We were spotted, some fishes, swimming towards the open sea, tried to convince us to reversing course. Panic went all over the legion, like a thrill. Into the danger, something woke up. Everyone tried to swim, but we were incapable, it wasn’t’ in our nature. We were incapable and still, while the sea got angry; wave after wave, the undertow pushed us to the coast, a last, high wale crashed us to the dry land. When the sun rose up, I regained consciousness and for the first time I could hear the sound of the waves, the noise of the land, outside the waters.


Where are you? Can you hear me?

And now you’re alone.

Now I am alone around all, on this land which is like hell. Still, abandoned, because I didn’t know how to live the Ocean.

You swam upstream, you are safe. Can you hear me?

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