182 - A glass fishing-boat


It is a minimal store, the kind of store nobody is interested in.

Apparently, the man had been working hard since many years ago.

He had the illusion of doing a glass fishing-boat… and he managed it. He invested all his time, and also his savings to design it. Many years of savings. Yes. It should be something special for the great project he had in mind.

The thing is that he managed it. He managed to have his glass fishing-boat.

That man had many contacts in Africa. Precisely a specialized technique had been developed there to mass-produce those fragile boats… but any of them made of glass, which was something unthinkable even in the world of dreams. To dream you need true references on which to support dreams. They, those of the continent, had many resources, but any of them a real one, or at least, one on which you can make a dream of that kind.

The man, whom I will call Nelson, for example, had contacts and I suppose that they were those who, with a complex framework of animistic synthesis and religious syncretism, managed that very important people from developed countries with resources to make dreams come true answered affirmatively to Nelson’s invitation, an invitation proposing a singular trip. It seems obvious that such a trip should be done on the amazing glass fishing-boat.

And Nelson’s wished day came. He had them all in the beach. The one from France, the one from Spain, the one from Great Britain, the one from Italy, the one from Germany… Thus, a list of important leaders who believe they rule men’s destinies.People without a decent name but easily recognizable by the mass media.

Recognizable, Nelson thought, but not knowable because of their disfigured souls.

Seated on the ground, without protesting, taking the trip as a game, thinking about the great amount of goldfish and corals they would be able to see, those men, also a woman, masters of all the things, were enjoying what it seemed a promising trip. It was obvious that all African magicians were exercising well their distant power since nobody objected anything… Never.

It was a singular trip. The transparent floor let them see the reality of that ocean. There were no goldfish or corals.

Corpses and more corpses were swimming under their feet. I prefer not to describe their exact condition. The details, I mean.

Well opened eyes were talking to a group of men who would be mentioned in History books in the future. Accusing eyes, with enough tears to salt the sea. Yes. I know I had written it before, that there are tears which salt the seas we know. It is a reality, I like to remind it.

The transparent roof of the fishing-boat, since it was submerged now, allowed them to see hands, hands moving freely indicating Utopian destinations. Bellies with their fruit withered. Feet trying to run on deserts of water. Water within water. Minds liquefied and vanished in the air of lost dreams.
They went around the coasts. The African, the European… the coasts. And more corpses. Dead men and women. Died corpses without an expiry date.

When the trip finished, Nelson said goodbye politely to them. He did not say anything to them. Nothing about the great effort he had made to offer them, with that trip, the gift of his life. He did not ask them for anything. He smiled to them once again.

They all went away to their important occupations. Some of them had to sign who knows what to regulate immigrants. To prevent them who knows what. To avoid something.

Others had a great meal agreed, nineteen dishes, they had been told, with the one from the United States, the one from Russia, the one from Japan… and that way the large list of those who…

They were all very busy. They were happy since apart from eating they would plant a little tree.

Nelson waved them goodbye, with his white palm of his black hand. He saw his black face reflected once more in his glass fishing-boat and he knew what he had to do.

Submerged with his glass fishing-boat, he turned into water to go in search of his people and get dissolved among them.

What could he tell them now?

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182·INT024·080729 · A glass fishing-boat  ©2008  
402071227-001-Santander-La Magdalena-w ©2007
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translated bt AiYiYi, my friend

2 comentarios:

  1. Maybe it was an opaque glass, don't you think? Or maybe they have opaque souls.

  2. En ocasiones nos olvidamos de ver lo que importa y lo que nos es y nos debe ser.