Half asleep, he spoke to Gabriela
Excerpt from Nuno
He became convinced that there would always be veils to hide the beauty of life. With every word that had ever left the ideal plane of his imagination there was a corresponding physical reality. Books were sacred records that pointed to splendor that was like the sun, sometimes obscured by clouds. He made tall stacks of books in his room, reluctant to return them, because of what they represented to him.
“You have to give them back sometime,” Hernán smiled.
“Let me just hold on to them a little longer,” Nuno said.
Hernán squatted to pick up a book and open it. “You remind me of when I was young and first began attending the university. I fell in love with books. I loved anthologies. I was especially taken by one book that featured essays by great thinkers. I feel almost jealous of you right now. It’s quite a feeling to have.”
Nuno gave Hernán a serious look. “I possess nothing. All I have is my mind. I think I’m at peace with that.”
“That’s not what happens to most men who have had your type of experience. They suffer from debilitating trauma the rest of their lives. The world has proven to be a dark and malevolent place. They don’t see anything good. How can you have peace?”
“I don’t know.”
“I wish you could give me some kind of answer. I’ve tried to help people my whole life. I give them advice. I try to encourage them. I try to inspire. I share wisdom with them—everything from Proverbs to the Tao. My main field of interest is psychology. But I have never found any coping technique or cure for emotional pain. And medication only works some of the time. How do you get inside someone’s head and fix their brain so they see life differently? How do you remove the past? How do you bring peace to a troubled soul? My congratulations to you, Nuno, for having mastered your emotions…”
That night, all Nuno thought about was Gabriela. It was almost as if remembering an apostolic age when miracles were possible. She was the savior of his heart, the life that filled his soul like an ocean. He wondered if it was really the book that he had stolen from Pablo that had changed his life, or whether perhaps it was walking through an orange grove with his daughter. Nuno tilted his head and brooded, utterly perplexed by this riddle.
Half asleep, he spoke to Gabriela: An ancient river of fallen tears and solitude brings my soul to you. Our two lips touch like fresh and salt water meeting. There is a deep and mysterious power in you. In our dreams or in the spirit world, somewhere between the manifested and unmanifested, there is something that is woven. It is our story. Brief but perfect, it devours all of existence. My love, my love, my love for you.“
Nuno (2014, Aignos Publishing)