"Coral Gables Blues", a fragment of a short literary piece, directly linked to other stories from the book "A Tale of Two Villages", coming soon.

I went outside only to contemplate the tops of the trees touching each other. The trees danced, swayed, touched. Sometimes the leaves would depart from the disquiet trees and reach for each other in mid-air, like two lovers in their tempest of passion. I felt the inclement breath ruffle my hair. It did not bother me. I bent my neck backwards, as far as I could, like an ancient queen invoking a god, and stared at two birds dotting the blue dome. The birds hovered in the air for seconds, for eternity. Gradually, the vibrant sun became blood red. Like an overgrown crimson cell. My chest heaved with a breath of life. My eyes stung with tears that reflected the sorrowful southernmost sun. Cars honked. Irreverent music blasted from a nearby house. Mothers yelled in frightful egotism to their children playing like little feathered Indians. “Romy, Romy,” called my own mother, “come look at the news.” An airplane wrought the world with ferment discord. Yet those noises, a strife to my vision, were not enough to impede the stream of tranquility which poured its vehemence onto my waiting soul….