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Dedico este conto a alguém muito especial, que um dia prometeu: «...tentarei que nunca te pareça que te tiro o rebuçado.»        ...

Friday, 23 July 2010

Kite Burial

You've been gathered here today to help me bury my kite. Unfortunately, I'm the only one here – not him. Not because he couldn't make it, but because he wouldn't...For nearly two months now he's been struggling to keep our kite floating in the air. As you can see, he's failed. Was it because he was trying to fly so many other kites at the same time? Was it a conscious choice to let the string go...or an accident? It seems we'll never know: When last we spoke, I let him know that even though I would no longer hold my end of the string – that I had given up –, I would still be there for him, for us, as long as he managed to keep our kite flying in the blue sky. Alas, he let it go, and our beautiful kite nose-dived to the ground. My friends, help me bury this kite now, and with it, all the sorrow caused by this estrangement. I'll leave unburied all the scores and words inspired: They're too beautiful and harmless. Goodbye my friend – think of me as buried with what was once our cheerfully coloured kite.

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