A wave. A small push from the olfactory bulb. It reaches the shore of the cerebral cortex. The excited olfactory cells are disturbed. A smell. It is a smell!
She opens her eyes. She knows it is a new day. She is bored. She finds comfort in her sleep-waking – she has called it that since she was a child. In this state, she controls her thoughts, she controls her dreams.
She mixes them, prioritizes, intervenes in their development. Perfect! She is the ruler of dreams! The house was located on the hills, above the sea. Alone, hidden by thousands of lemon trees, which she liked to call lemon trees because they were huge, much bigger than usual. Thousands? That’s what she thought then. Probably there were far fewer, but who counts lemon trees when they are ten years old?
It was an Easter forgotten in May. A May – a starting point for unprecedented feelings, behaviors, and situations. For all of them. Then a ball of yarn unraveled that no one wanted to touch. Or didn’t know how. And then it was wrapped again with love. After going through pain. Because these almost always go together, she learned that then and became a little wiser.
So it was spring, and with uncombed hair, a dress that sparkled in the sun like a detergent commercial, and scraped knees – she wasn’t exactly the most well-behaved girl in her class – she ran and cried among the blooming lemon trees. That’s what her stubbornness and anger told her to do. Also, she had seen a beautiful blonde actress run like that in a TV show when she broke up with her boyfriend. And most importantly? That way her dress fluttered more – and she liked to see it by turning her head back, risking falling and scraping her weak knees again.