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Thursday, 23 October 2014

One Sound Made all the Difference - Page 2

Written by Magdalena Zenaida
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But if it rained- all was quiet.  I laid on my hard mattress and ancient filthy pillow and listened to the rain pelting the concrete, alternating with the plunking sound in the pool.  It was like a fountain lulling me to sleep while the fan barely hung onto the ceiling as it rattled above.  There was only a curtain between the window to my room and the courtyard, the typical Baroque shutters that let air circulate throughout the rooms.  The travelers who walked up the metal staircase to the rooftop to smoke cigarettes and other substances, banged their feet up the stairs, a pinging noise where they grasped the metal rails.

 

If it thundered, I wasn’t alone.  There would be three rhythmic scratches at my door, and then another one.  I opened the door, and then lied down.  Three more scratches.  My two dog companions had come to seek shelter, one after the other.  The grey mutt sighed softly as she curled up in a cool corner, the black dog made a heaving thump on the mattress he brought himself up on my bed. These were the second best sounds of the hostel. 

  

The first was a melody I can still hear.  “Magdalena, Magdalena, Magdalena,” he said.  It was as there was some awe, or incredulousness behind it- as if it had an unknowable future to him as he let my name fall off his tongue.  He said it to himself, behind the wooden bars of the Baroque window where he sat behind his desk, and I sat on the other side, quietly rocking in chair on the patio.  It rolled throughout me and I sensed a future too.  That sound, made all the difference.

 

 

 

(c)Magdalena Zenaida

(Page 2 of 2)
Last modified on Friday, 24 October 2014

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