TRAMONTANA

The sun fingers caressed the wrinkles of a fisherman’s village. A wind from the sea became the part of the soul of the stone walls and narrow dusty streets. Not a tree was growing on the dry and brutal soil of the southern lands of Spain, where, unfortunately, like a mirage in a desert appeared this little village.
Luisa was sitting in a bar, staring at a glass of already hot water. Her red hair got tangled and fell like autumn rain on her plump shoulders. Her brown eyes opened wide – what was she seeing? God knows. A flat loud sound – a waiter, a gypsy’s son, perhaps, served her a plate of green salad. She awoke from her vague unusual dream. Luisa noticed that the wind began to pick up.

Far away from there she heard bells calling for the mass.
Far away from there the wise sea was murmuring.
Far away from there a wind was born.
A wind that was bringing bad news and a headache.
A wind that was making the bread on the plates stale.

Probably, everything was fine. Yesterday she entered the conservatoire, where she was going to study music. Yesterday…

The red velvety curtain reminded her of the wild sea waves. Luisa felt a strange fear growing rapidly in her soul, and this fear made her step forward. She couldn’t remember her playing the canon, she couldn’t remember the applause, she could not remember the results of the exam. Her heart was full of fear, and the music couldn’t save her. A fear of committing a mistake, a fear of a wrong step… And she ran away like a small black spider hiding from the gentle sun beams. And she ran away – and now she is here, in the lost village, and she is calm, but…

A wind began to blow.
A wind of changes.
A wind that was bringing bad news and a headache.
A wind that was making the bread on the plates stale.

The salad was fresh. The red wine tasted sweet. Luisa decided to take a stroll. Narrow streets, dusty stone walls, unbearably hot air. She was alone as though she had found her place in this turbulent world.
A six-year-old girl was watching her. Then the girl got bored quickly and decided to learn her music lesson. And a gentle melody poured from the window. And the curtains began to flap in the hot wind. The red curtains…
Luisa rushed up the street. Her red hair and her grey dress were flying like a merry-go-round, and it seemed to her that she would never escape from the desperate call of the piano keys.

Luisa burst into the room and fell down the hard sofa. A low ceiling, four flat walls – she felt a bit calmer, but even then she was afraid to look out of the window. Her soul was like a bud, scared to be touched. But soon the fear began vanishing.
Two hours later Luisa was up. She gulped down a glass of hot water. She heard quiet tick of the clock. She recalled the morning before her exam. That morning she had woken up, happy, free, full of hope – she had woken up because of the sun smile. And she had been happy. Luisa was bursting into tears.

The tears lulled the girl into a nap, but because of the heat she woke up again. Her forehead was sweaty. In her dream Louise heard music.

It was stuffy in the room, and she decided to open the window. The wind burst through the moaning window.
A wind of changes.
A wind that was bringing bad news and a headache.
A wind that was making the bread on the plates stale.

A wind which made the curtains flap.

Her heart was broken once again by wild fears: a fear of making a mistake, a fear of taking a wrong step, a fear of being an artist…

Luisa took her heels, but the wind was following her, the wind sang her favourite melodies. Red hair, brown eyes opened wide… She was running towards the sea. Enormous, passionate, always stirring it was waiting for the girl. The wise waves salted her body. Waves. Waves of the curtains. Waves of the red velvety curtains….
Suddenly Luisa realised what love was, and she saw God’s creating hand, and she felt a pain, a pain deep inside her chest. If only she had tried…

The girl was standing on the top of the rocks. The wind was tearing her red hair, but Luisa was no more scared… Her eyes opened widely – what was she seeing?

Luisa made a step into an abyss.

The next day the villagers buried the girl’s body near the fence of the cemetery. Everyone blamed the wind for her death.

A wind that was born far away.
A wind of changes.
A wind that was bringing bad news and a headache.
The wind that was making the bread on the plates stale.

In a week people forgot about the girl with the red hair and brown eyes opened wide. The wind was gone, and everything became calm and settled in the village.