The sleeping white beauty

07/02/2022 Nilson Lattari

Clara searched for inspiration in her books to write stories. Her lost eyes looked at the garden in front of her. She stared at the colourful flowers and plants dancing with the wind, birds flying around in circles, and she thought about what was lacking something there. Suddenly, her inspiration moved from the paper to real life, before nature in movement.
– There is no water! She screamed. What about a small lake to adorn this green?
She has picked up the phone and contacted a professional to build an elegant lake with a fountain. It would regenerate this garden!
Some weeks later, the trees flourished and turned into beautiful fruits and an apple tree.
Time went on, and Clara continued looking at the white computer screen. It had illuminated her darkened room because the external light had disappeared behind growing trees. The noisy water of the fountain, more and more, was distant, and Clara went on enclosed inside her thoughts, waiting for inspiration. The computer cursor was there, blinking like a challenge. “Decipher me or I will devour you”. Then, she perceived that she wasn’t looking at the garden from a good perspective… but: What kind of story could she tell about her life?
Her look turned to the garden, darker and darker in comparison to the illuminated computer screen in front of her. She wasn’t seeing the sun anymore because she didn’t go outdoors. Her skin turned pale, and it had been getting white. She was becoming white, snow-white, but she thought that there was still one thing to complete her garden.
– Is it lacking animals? People? She found out again.
There were birds that built nets, though she hasn’t been satisfied.
Then, she ordered seven garden dwarfs from the internet. She put them in line on the ground as they were walking home or coming from some nonexistent mine.
She went back to the computer and stood there watching the cursor blinking, looking forward to inspiration that didn’t come. “Once upon a time…” and there wasn’t time. Everything was the same. Her friends phoned her to say she should give up her search for ideas, and she should give up writing to meet them. But Clara resisted and kept there alone, in silence, stopped in front of “Once upon a time…”
– What? She asked herself.
The apple tree and its red and delicious fruits bloomed in the garden. From the street, the neighbours couldn’t get to see the house, and from the house, Clara couldn’t see the street either.
Sometimes, she has looked at the leaves of the garden closing the view and has fancied the small dwarfs in line, with their picks and shovels on their shoulders, singing the known song “I go, I go…” and they have disappeared under her house to work in an imaginary mine.
Clara has continued searching for a story, and she has been more and more distant from reality. Clara has slept once more, on the computer table, waiting for some idea, but it didn’t come.
All friends have insisted on phoning her, and Clara has invented the most naive stories to leave her house. The garden has grown more and more, and the street has disappeared totally. Her house has turned small, and she has started to believe that the seven dwarfs didn’t want to sleep outdoors, so they decided to sleep in Clara’s house.
They fired up the fireplace and told stories to each other, and sometimes they asked her about her life, what she did and if they could help her.
One day, someone knocked on the door.
– Who is there? She asked.
A man’s voice answered.
– It’s me, Marcos, do you remember me?
It was her neighbour. A guy with freckles and pimples on his face, and he was the same age as her. She remembered him. He had a gangly walk, and his colourful clothes didn’t combine. His shoes were always muddy because he liked to play football. She was disgusted by him! She remembered him.
– What do you want, Marcos?
– I would like to talk to you. We haven’t seen each other for a long time. And now there is a big garden between us.
– So what? She responded angrily.
– There is an apple tree in your garden, and I noted that you don’t pick any of them, therefore, I think we might eat one together.
– You are so ridiculous, disturbing my apple tree!
She was angry. Suddenly, she opened the door and saw a beautiful young man. Then she realized how long she had been asleep!