"He opened his eyes, he could see perfectly the fleecy clouds that moved
lazy ... I could feel like the sun warmed my face.
Where was I?
A deafening silence around me ... and then I realized I could not remember ...
In my hand clenched tightly, almost desperately, a yellow button, which of course, did not belong to anything you wear. "
A new state of consciousness? A new sensation? A myriad of new sensations little crowded into my interior and it was impossible to measure, translate. I do not know if I was happy in that silent moment ... Perhaps the best word to describe me was new. That is, I felt new, but something happened, something had lived my mind did not come to glimpse from the memory.
I felt more relaxed breathing, decided to get up and change my face in surprise at a more inquisitive, I decided to walk to find something that sounded to me known, or find a friendly face, a good coffee in a place open and crowded. But I knew my right hand had fastened securely response ...
... I stayed a long time looking at that button, turning it between my fingers when I finally decided to move a few steps, a whirlwind of leaves and sand were to close his eyes with his arms cubriéndomelos. When I got back to open his eyes, was surrounded by trees, rows of trees, one after the other, look at all sides,
- "What is happening here?" - Could not understand anything, move through the trees, stepping leaves on the ground, something that conveyed me peace forest suddenly found a group of trees, with an "I I "painted between their trunks, a twinge of pain in my heart, this I know, that's part of me, but I can not remember anything, I pass my hand through the trees painted white paint, trying to get to play something again my empty head, he could not remember anything, my hands fiddle with the button on the pocket, as I look back on air, soft start, stroking my cheeks, playing among the trees, then more intense, lifting the leaves dry soil again become a whirlwind ...
And now, where am I?
I'm back among the trees, but these are different, they are scattered randomly planted by the mother nature, the sound of water running nearby to divert my eyes done, going forward, a cascade of water flows around rocks, wooden bridges, and large rocks with cracks. Birds flying from tree to tree, cross the bridge to touch the water, is almost frozen, and swats my hand. To get me to warm up, put my hands on the pockets, returning to play that yellow button. Again
air, re-form swirls around me, close my eyes, wanting a new place, opening the eyes, a fervent crowd of people jumping around me, with one arm raised, and though not heard the noise, feel the party, people around me watching me and smiles, someone speaking from a balcony and all eyes rest on him when he finishes talking, rocket launches, the Pum resounds in the silence that surrounds me, and immediately heard the noise starts, people laugh, jump , cold gas released into the air. Strongly
button subject among my hand until it hurt, I close my eyes, all the buzz is gone, I'm on the altar of a church, a line of kids waiting to take his first communion, the priest smiles, I am there, with hands outstretched, waiting like everyone else, and on my hands, the yellow button ...
I close the hand, and everything changed again before me, some parents see a duck pond, while a girl with brown curls, is launching worms, the ducks that swirl at her feet ...
Close my fist holding that button, everything is very confusing but at the same time, it so peaceful, so sure, so ... home, known to house smells like home ...
I open my eyes, I'm lying on a bed, a photo album on my chest, on the cover, a toothless child of about seven years with a yellow cardigan, with big yellow buttons ...
That if I remember, ran together in my head suddenly ...
- "Mom, when is old as you, I remember everything? - said the girl while playing with the buttons on the jacket inside the eye.
- Ja, Ja, Ja, when you are old like me ... a simple button you back to your memories, dreams, the eternal present, small. And nothing can stop you. Smiling baby ...
-CLICK.
WAY.
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