Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Les Câpres



Broken Embraces

El Secreto De Sus Ojos

La Teta Asustada

Un Prophet

White Ribbon

There was once a woman who loved flowers more than life itself. Even when her flowers withered, she would water them as if they were living. So one day a man brought her a new bundle of flowers. She rejected them on the basis that they weren’t hers. “But they’re flowers, are they not?” the man noted.

The man, offended, knew not what to do with them other than to throw them away. So he did.

She returned to her flowers, even though they had withered, and took a long breath – placing her nose near one of the pistils. It still retained the sweet smell she was always so fond of. Her eyes closed, enveloped in a blissful state of tranquility.

The man came over, placed his hand on her shoulder, and leaned in toward the flowers. He took a long breath and imitated what she had done. He looked over at her as he placed his nose near the flower. Her eyes remained closed.

“I don’t smell anything,” he told the woman. “Nothing at all.”

Her eyes still closed, a faint smile grew across her face. She took another breath. She exhaled a soft wind between her lips.

“Did you hear me?”

“Did you?”

“I said nothing at all.”

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