The story of Eduardo del Mar

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Let me tell you the story of Eduardo del Mar, you do remember him, don’t you?

I was having tea in the garden last night by myself. It was a quiet night in the village; the villagers had gone home early to walk in the chill of the night. I was in my Jan Taminiau long sleeved dress, struggling to count all of the petals on the peonies found at the centre of my garden table, feeling the warmth of my armchair’s velvet on my bare back, when I heard a knock on my door and the name Elena being called.

I went to open the door, with chills down my back as my bare feet touched the cold marble of the tiles.

“Elena della Rosa! Elena, are you there?”

As I heard Elena being called, I realised only a select group of people had known me by such a name, so I unlocked the door quickly.

“Look at you, lounging in couture at home, darling I love you so much I want to be you!”

“Eduardo! You’ve come to see me at home, what an honour darling, come in!”

With my arm tucked under his, I led him to the drawing room.

“I thought you were sailing with the others.”

“I did for a while but I kept dreaming about your village. You told us so many wonderful stories about it darling I wanted to live here — I want to buy bread in haute couture too!”

“Well good, then you can buy my groceries tomorrow.”

He laughed, that same hearty laugh that still reverberated in my ears ever since I left the pirate ship.

“Darling are you hungry, would you like something to nibble on?”

“Thank you but I actually had five gingerbread cookies while I was coming here; there was a tray with a whole batch sitting on the windowsill of this bakery, huh!”

“Ah yes, baker, well, you must stay with me until you find a house; I’m often away anyway so you’ll have the house to yourself most of the time.”

“Oh Elena, thank you, but a house has already caught my eye when I was coming up here — very shabby chic, very roses meet rock darling, I’ll go and ask about it tomorrow.”

“Good, oh, darling listen, you may find the villagers here call me by another name than Elena.”

“Oh an alias! Darling I want to be you even more now, what is it? Tell me!”

“Madeliene Rose.”

“That’s it, I died! I died, I died!”

We did not sleep a wink, but I don’t feel the least bit tired. I had not laughed so much in a very long time.

Story credit: Jan Taminiau for the image.

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