Going back to the sea

The wheels of the bike were turning quickly, the wind was caressing her skin, and her hair was ruffled here and there. The sky was so blue, the intense scent of the sea in the air, and on the horizon, there was not even a cloud.

The view moved indistinctly at the pace with her, a little blurry, and one after the other the images flowed away.

Tiredness started to come, and so, she decided to stop. She wiped a little sweat from her face and looked at that distant and blinding sun. As soon as she made sure she knew the way, she left her bike and set off through the small alleys.

Old streets, houses on the point of crumbling but still rich in their charm. Windows wide open, clothes hanging and the shadow of a couple of busy hands. Excerpts of ancient city walls, white and shiny, and an echo of distant laughter were the backdrop to that picturesque landscape.

The warm and bright colors seemed to embrace that little body that silently wandered among the many roads. She looked up with a sincere smile, taking photos little and often.

The feeling of returning home was once again overwhelming, and difficult to describe. A mix of sensations that strike you right in the heart, without twists and turns. The eyes were swollen with tears and the knot tight to the throat hurt like the first time when years ago, she had to say her first "goodbye" to the dear town. That town is full of potential, with so much to offer and to teach. That town with heavenly scents and an immense heart. And yet, that heart was slowly shattering, imperceptibly. However, no one noticed the subtle noise of the pieces of that heart falling down, no one but the little girl.

She tried hard, but it didn’t work. She tried to talk to them, to convince them, but in vain. They were busy -they said- they had other things to do. Adult things, priorities, and responsibilities, in short, other things to worry about.

People were busy complaining about everything that was wrong inside the town, how corrupt the system was, how the roads were not yet fixed, and how the government was the first one to steal from the citizens. People talked to each other and behind their backs. They had the sole responsibility to worry about the thoughts of others and make sure they were not the black sheep of the flock. Being different, you know, was never an option.

Wiping her tears, she took a deep breath, and once again, she had to take the courage to greet that homeland from which years ago, she had finally escaped. It cost her so much to admit it, but even though there was nothing left there for her, she would still miss it. Inside her, that small flame of hope every year was diminishing, that hope of a change, of a new perspective.

She took up her bike and looked at the sea one last time.

Who knows, was she as selfish as most people said, or was her plan an even bigger plan?