a haunting memory

25 August 2005 @ 22:28
my mood

A haunting memory:

I clung tightly to Andr� as we zipped around S�o Louren�o on M�nica's small motorcycle, which strains under our weight to climb the hills. I don't remember why we were out -- it could have been anything from seeing the town to running small errands -- I was just happy that I was with him. I whispered flirtations and questions in his ear while I occassionally rubbed my hands against his body to help fight off the cold which settles in once the sun sets.

We were on the home stretch, navigating the cobblestone roads in his neighborhood which are so familiar to him and so alien to me, impatient to escape the cold. We flew down one of the last hills. Andr� swerved to the left a little. Before I knew it I was eye-to-eye with a lone white horse plodding its way up the hill. His coat shone eerily in the dim light of the night, almost as if he was a mystical creature from some other world. Or a dream.

That just wasn't the case. He was simply a beast of labor who calls this world home.

Boa noite,
--Annie

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