I headed out in my Giambattista Valli dress to sit on the old tree, as I was in the habit of doing lately. I was swinging my bare feet while my dress flowed with the wind along the tree trunk when I saw this man roaming around the cobble stone streets. He looked as grey as the weather in the village; his eyes downcast and his hands in his trouser pockets, heeding to no one who passed him by.
I watched the thin figure, donning brown tones and a stubble, as he moved with a pace that seemed to adhere to the rhythm of something, when he looked up at me with a sombre expression, hands still in his trouser pockets.
“Trust you are well Madeliene.”
I was about to climb down the tree, when he gestured for me to stay put and climbed to join me on the branch.
“Is this how you are spending your day now?” He had taken off his hat but that sombre look persisted on his face.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?”
“We only see what we want to see Madeliene.”
We were quiet for a while. I looked at his long, bony fingers which looked worn but strong; the fingers on his left hand were thumping on his hat, while his right forefinger was swinging left to right.
“You were there weren’t you?” I told the stranger, “At the Capela dos Ossos…
“You were there weren’t you?” I told the stranger, “At the Capela dos Ossos, and that time I dined in the palazzo, clicking your baton to the wall and conducting your orchestra. You look less like a skeleton and more flesh like in the grey weather of the village.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you Madeliene.”
“Oh darling, I’m used to it. Why do you think this village is so dark and dreary? You must play for me soon, it’s been a while.”
“Stop being in a rush Madeliene and I will.”
He was right you know, I had been rushing through everything and avoiding everyone I met.
“I will try darling but I must leave you know. I will see your shadow on a wall sometime.”
Story credit: Lord Ashbury for first image; Giambattista Valli Haute couture 2015 for the dress.