Elisa Bazzi
Bio
Daydreamer and hopeless idealist. Still trying to sort out the words in my head, to put them down into something cohesive.
Stories (5)
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Turbulence
The late spring sun was seeping through the thick foliage of the tall elms. Despite the early morning hours, the park was filling up quickly. A typical Thursday in May. The exhausted cry of a baby from afar, the happy barking of a dog, mingled with the firm chirping of a warbler. Or was it a flycatcher? She honestly had no idea. But it sounded good. It blended well with the empty echo of her own thoughts. Unexpectedly calm. On a day that was setting out to be quite frenetic, she felt like an unconcerned passenger, ready to spend a 24h journey observing her surroundings, peeking into other people’s lives, and guessing who they might be, what they might be doing, where they might be going. The air was drenched with the soft and sharp smell of grass, heightened by the gentle breeze that made it ok to wear a light sweater, despite the season being already unreasonably warm. She lay flat on her belly resting the cheek on her folded hands, a thin layer of cotton the sole barrier between her still body and the fertile, vibrant ground beneath her. She could sense the energy. She could envision the possibilities. There was nowhere she had to be. Nothing she had to do. She breathed in through her nose. She had forgotten what that felt like. Today was different. She was different.
By Elisa Bazzi3 years ago in Fiction
A farewell letter to Earth. Top Story - May 2022.
Dear Earth, I’m writing this letter because I feel that time is running out. It’s late and I’m tired. I bet you are tired too. Tired of carrying the weight of two many heads, too many voices, tired of all the fighting loaded with insolent grudges, tired of giving everything I have and getting nothing in return. What comes back is destruction. At times slow and deep, then all of a sudden, with instantaneous violent blows. Our world is in decline, our civilization on the verge of annihilation, because we weren’t capable of taking care of each other, we weren’t capable of speaking the same language, not the verbal one, but the one of the heart. The one where we understand each other only if we learn to listen.
By Elisa Bazzi4 years ago in Earth
