The black-fuchsia man

The other day it happened to see him! Did you saw him? A man colored black and fuchsia! Have you seen him?

I saw him and I spoke with him! A man confused, dizzy and nervous. A man who was carefully covered years… A man whose main target was to protect his emotions from the difficulties of life, a man whose balance and tranquility was nirvana. He and his objects. And suddenly he had to choose. That’s why I saw him, a man from the neck and above colored black and from the chest and below colored fuchsia. A, admittedly, shiny and radiant fuchsia.

He was scared. For the first, or one of the few times of his life he had to select… To live and to love or to continue to be locked in his cave, in the security of the objects that do not hurt, but do not talk or hug…

And it was her fault… This girl with the expressive, wet brown eyes. With her charming smile, with her moves… her soft touch, which strangely, was really welcomed. A human touch. She was funny, sweet, and lovable. She was not astonishingly beautiful, nor impressive, but this feeling of completeness… it was the first time. And for him she was the prettiest of all. And then he became scared! Then I found him, to wonder in the streets, to try to avoid the inevitable: The decision. To live, to accept and to risk his heart or to return back to the hell of stability and security?

You know what I advised him… Fuchsia cures our souls…