Once upon a time, in the tram as in the bus, train or subway, you could see dozens and dozens of newspapers and books; today there are very few people with these two objects in their hands. Turn around and you will see that the people around you are locked up in their world holding a smartphone, tablet or mp3 player.
What would happen if, returning from work, your eye stopped on the cover of an abandoned book on a subway seat, on a bench at the bus stop, on the train, on a table in a bar ... or anywhere else you can to imagine..?!?
I bet you would try to snatch the title, maybe you would feel a little embarrassed, but opening the book you would find an unknown voice speaking to you. And suddenly everything would stop:
Take me, take me away with you! If you're holding me in your hands it's because you had to be the one to find me. I am a Free Book, I don't have a home and I don't belong to anyone in particular: I belong to those who want to read me. To those who love to read. Take me, make me yours ... and then, if you want, abandon me again. Let others also know the story I have to tell; or read me and keep me along with the other books in your personal library, on your shelves, until someone, again, wants to read me.
You will see: it will be a great trip!
Read it, free it, give it away, do what you want with it ... and then, if you like, write your story here: tell where you found it, what you thought, if you liked it, what you felt in reading it.
So if you have a book written by you, free it, leave it there on a seat, on the sofa, let someone find it, write on the cover "TAKE ME AND READ ME". Who knows who will read it.
- sorry, would you have a cigarette? -
He saw her every morning. He knew she was one of those good girls, who never smoked. He wasn't the type. But he asked him; not so much for the cigarette as for talking to her. Just to see her lips in a dance just for him, to tell him something, anything. For him.
- no sorry. Still better for you, right? Smoking is bad -
- bad? Bad for what? -
- ah I don't know. Brain, lungs ... heart -
- what if one smokes to forget the harm they have done to his heart? -
- then in that case he needs help. He's killing himself. But I'm not a doctor, I can't know -
- Help? Guy? -
- like love. -
- and what is love like? -
- it's like when you smoke a cigarette and take his soul, but then it gets inside and kills you. But sometimes it's not like that -
- and how is it, the other times? -
- it's like when you kiss a strong person so that he can get inside you, and that person could kill you instead he chooses to save you. -
- then? -
- and then he hugs you and puts your heart close to his -
- and you? -
- I what? -
- you don't smoke. Do you have a person who can save you? -
The girl laughed.
- they were just metaphors. I don't believe in love. It was a nice way to tell you that smoking is bad for you, just like love does -
- you must have huge scars in there. -
The girl looked down.
He took her hands, looked up and saw those dead and empty and dark eyes.
- we will have to learn to hurt each other, what do you say? -
- what are you talking about? -
- I save you and you save me. Make love. We hurt each other together. Maybe every day or even every hour. But we keep ourselves alive, because we hold hands. So, are you there? -
- what if we end up killing ourselves? -
- what if we end up loving each other? -
THE PRODIGY OF IDEAS 