domingo, 10 de junho de 2012

The birthday gift

The boy ran through the streets on that day feeling as if his feet would never be up to the task. Panting, he could feel the sweat on his face cooling rapidly against the wind.

He was late.

The park was quite empty around that time of the day, when the sun was about to set – not that it was uncommon for it to be empty, it wasn’t the most popular spot, just the usual one, nothing else, nothing more. Still, he saw the shadow of a person sitting on a swing, and his lips curled up.

Maybe he still had a chance?

“Ava!” the boy called as soon as he stepped into the playground. “I’m sorry!”

A head turned in his direction, throwing coppery-blond curls over the girl’s shoulder, and her face frowned.

“You’re late” she told him sternly. “Why are you always late?”

His smile strained, the boy stopped behind the swings, and adjusted a large hat on his head while attempting to recover his breath. “I’m sorry” he repeated. “I… Got lost?”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Really?”

Apparently deciding to go on with it, the boy nodded, very seriously. “Really. It was a terrible experience.”

“I’m sure it was traumatic.” The girl scoffed, turning her back to him and pushing down with her feet. “I really don’t know why I still put up with you!”

The boy jumped to the side to avoid being hit by her swing. “Because I’m an incredible and fascinating person…” he told her, walking until they could look at each other without violent results. “And because I have a birthday gift for you.”

“Of course…” she pushed down again, gaining some speed and altitude. “The amazing late gift!”

He scowled at this. “Last time I checked, today is still your birthday, Ava.” He reminded her.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “and I’ve been here for almost two hours!”

That made him flinch, and cough a little embarrassedly, “I said I was sorry for that.”

“Indeed,” the girl suddenly jumped off the swing, landing on her feet. “you said that.” She straightened her clothes and raised an eyebrow towards him. “Well? Where’s my gift?”

The boy clasped his hands behind his back and smiled at her, the hat’s brim hiding most of his eyes. “Your gift, my dear Ava, is not something I can simply give or show you… But something I have to tell you.”

“… It’s a story.” She shook her head. “Another story.”

“Don’t speak like that” scolded the boy. “Have I ever, in all the time we’ve known each other, told you the same story twice unless asked?” he saw her lips curl when she turned her head away, and grinned, stepping closer. “Have I, Ava, the sole voice of reason in this mad little world I’ve been forced to live on?”

The girl tried to muffle a giggle, but wasn’t very successful. “No,” she admitted. “you never tell your stories twice, and you never tell them in the same way.”

“There you go!” he said, victorious. “And based on that, don’t you think any story I tell you as your birthday gift would be beautiful, unique and special, in honor of the one to whom the gift is destined?”

Ava hummed, and curled her lips in a smirk. “Unique and special” she said, “mean the same thing.”

The boy didn’t lose a beat. “It’s for emphasis.” He answered, following while she walked through the playground. “Will you give me the pleasure of listening to my story, then?”

The girl turned to face him, challenging smirk in place. “Sure, why not? It’s my birthday gift, after all…”

He grinned broadly at that. “Will you, really? Thanks, Ava!”

“You better start soon, or I’ll change my mind…”

“No need for that.” He took a deep breath. “Once upon a time…”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Really?”

“Will you let me tell my story or not?”

“I thought it was my story. My birthday gift.”

“It won’t be until I tell you, so listen quietly, please?”

“Ok, ok…”

The boy still glared a little, but breathed again, and repeated: “Once upon a time…”

… there was a girl who walked over this land. Her hair was like gold and copper, and her laugh and voice were the most beautiful music that anyone has ever heard. While this girl naturally knew many people, and was loved by many more, she found time within her life to befriend this lost fellow, who thought himself a good storyteller, and an even better liar…

“Did she, now?”

“Shh, let me finish! Her friendship was precious to him, in spite of their differences…”

… and he wished to repay her kindness somehow. And since it was what he did best, the fellow told her a story, a beautiful tale which he advised her to keep as well as she would keep her own name…

“Why her name?”

“Is there anything you keep as well as your own name?”

“…You’ve got a point.” She looked thoughtfully towards an ice cream cart while they walked. “What’s the point of him telling the story if she wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about it?”

The boy shrugged, “You should always tell the stories you’re supposed to tell, and you should always pay the debts you own.”

“Funny, I don’t remember you following the last one…” mocked the girl, receiving an innocent look in answer. “And what about the stories you’re not supposed to tell?”

He smiled, “The rule says nothing about them.”

She laughed, louder than anyone would ever hear her laugh, “You are the worst, you know that?”

“I am” the boy said, pulling something from his back and presenting it to her. “merely me. Not the best, nor the worst, Ava.”

A surprised smile appeared in her face, but she accepted the ice cream gladly, “Is it blue?”

“Of course.” He answered, adjusting his hat again before offering his hand. “Now, shall I tell you the end of the story, my dear?”

The girl tasted her ice cream, and laughed again, more quietly. “Sure…” she said, holding his hand with her free one. “I’m sure it’ll be an unforgettable tale.”


If I ever forgot your birthday, this story is for you. Sorry about the lack of revision, and any mistakes you might have found. And sorry about the weird parts.

I wonder why everytime I write a story in english, there's someone with a hat...?

2 comentários:

  1. Veri naici!

    Mai ingrish not is veri godi!

    Oosome texti!

  2. Eu gostei do texto, sis.
    Me identifiquei com o garoto, the awesome lies and stuff.
    Acho que você não esqueceu meu aniversario, então o texto não é pra mim. (Sad)
    Gostei da escolha de palavras, bem interessante.
    No mais é um texto excelente, que quem vê até se pergunta se inglês não é sua lingua materna. xD
    Keep up the good work, sis.
    (Esse comentário foi apagado pelo site, tinham mais coisas que eu dizia, mas agora não to lembrando. Mas tá foda.)