It was a voice full of love, the voice of someone who had read the letters he'd sent during his military service, a trusting voice. Mevlut remembered those letters now, hundreds of them, each written with genuine love and desire; he remembered how he had devoted his entire being to winning over that beautiful girl, and the scenes of hapiness he'd conjured in his mind. Now, at last, he'd managed to get the girl. He couldn't see much, but in that magical night, he drew like a sleepwalker toward the sound of her voice.
© Philippe Halsman

Mevlut got out and walked toward the back in the darkness. As he was shutting the door on the girl, there was a flash of linhtning, and for a moment, the sky, the mountains, the rocks, the trees - everything around him - lit up like a distant memory. For the first time, Mevlut got a proper look at the face of the woman he was to spend a lifetime with.

He would remember the utter strangeness of thar moment for the rest of his life.

Orhan Pamuk, in A Strangeness in My Mind

1 comentário:

  1. Escuto sussurros de vento, meço a minha voz no silêncio: sob o eterno, as estações mortas, o presente real e o som de todos eles.