Si è conclusa la seconda edizione del concorso I Write, Therefore I AM – che ha visto classificarsi Marcello Aquili, della classe 4C, al primo posto nella categoria ‘racconto breve’, e Claudia Velati, della classe 4D, al primo posto nella categoria ‘poesia’. I nostri più vivi complimenti ai due vincitori, di cui potete leggere i lavori qui a seguire.
Categoria Poetry, Claudia Velati
I’m here swinging on the bench,
too much ash on the ground
too much smoke in the chest.
I hear my heart racing fast
and my senses slowing down,
memories that come back
and the regrets that moan.
my mind is messy
between disjointed thoughts that tense,
they fight tirelessly
to those who are more twisted and perverse
in an unfair war
where whoever wins is also dead.
°-°-°
Categoria Short-Story, Marcello Aquili
One day, Death said to her dog:
-I wonder.
-Strange. You don’t usually do that. – said the dog.
-How does it feel like to die?
-You of all people should know.
-I’m not people. And besides, how should I know? I’m the only thing that doesn’t.
-That’s true. But I could tell you.
-Yes, I remember when I took you. You were the first of your kind, the first companion humans had beside themselves. When I entered the house, you knew immediately what was going to happen, so you called your human and rested in his lap. He was confused, but delighted. Then he heard your labored breath, and saw your still, dangling tail. Then you felt your fur getting wet, and a head resting on your back, twitching and sobbing and clinging to your fur like it was the last floating piece of wood in an ocean that killed every other ship. And then I took you. You didn’t want your fur dried from the tears. You still have them on your back.
-I didn’t want to forget.
-So, how did it feel?
-To die? Like nothing at all.
A long pause took Death by surprise, as she caught herself thinking deeply about that answer, as though it didn’t answer anything, or rather answered the wrong question.
-Then I wonder. – said Death.
-Again?
-What does it feel like to lose someone.
-Ah. Now that, that feels like a thousand tiny wounds, each one a memory, and each drains every word of any meaning, and sentences collide while trying to speak, and there’s nothing left but empty space where once was happiness, and at the other end the mind is flooded, and all that water drains through crying eyes.
-And I do that to people? I did that to you?
-yes.
Death’s dog knew immediately what was going to happen. So she sat on Death’s lap, and heard her troubled breath and saw her pale contorted face. Her fur felt wet again, with fresher tears, and Death cried over her dog, who died ten thousand years ago.