July*
July the twenty-second, eight thirty-five in the morning, the nightingale hides in the branches of the maple when Hades decides to push His arm deep in the jar of ostracons and bring up the one with my name written in capital letters…MANOLIS…with patience, He sharpens His sickle on the stone as the jasmine wastes its fragrance on Him and the chickadee sings our national anthem.
—I want to go on holiday, far away to some secluded romantic place.
He visits my humble dwelling when suddenly the Fates toss His mind between a rock and a hard place, and he decides: enough men have taken the last few hours.
—Don’t be concerned with your blood pressure: add a little salt, it makes food tasty.
He changes His mind. He flies to Bosnia, where men line up for the taking. He leaves and leaves me free in peace.
—Let’s go to Mexico, where lovers go, like the two of us, eh, baby?
Ostracon with my name written in capital letters is put back in the immense jar of ostracons like a cell of heart tissue to its muscle.
—If we put enough money away, we can go on a Caribbean cruise this September.
- The morning of July 22nd, 1999, I experienced a serious heart attack.
Libros Libertad 