– All the Seas of the World –
“If you’ve been looking for a person who likes mondays, you’ve found them. not mondays in general: but specifically monday mornings.”
Not Mondays in general: but specifically Monday mornings. Those ones that everyone hates because it is the start of the week, because you start work and because the alarm clock rings. I like all of this. I’ve liked it forever. Or rather, since I was at school.
I loved Monday mornings, they seemed endless, I used to see my favourite teacher. In class she was strict and she almost never smiled, because that is the behaviour of a teacher. Discipline, competition and hard work.
However, in my opinion, I am quite sure that she had a favourite. At the end of the classes used to call me into her office, to suggest some additional readings or to correct my mistakes in the written tests. Mistakes that were usually intentional: I just wanted to spend a bit more time with her. I didn’t think she was suspicious; but today, thinking back to those sweet smiles, I think she knew very well.
“I like all of this. I’ve liked it forever.”
“You have a wonderful imagination, Nicholas,” she said, while reading what I had written. Then she laughed at my Western name. My parents have always been extravagant.
Her name was Momo, which means peach. She couldn’t have had a more appropriate name. Why? She really was a peach. Fragrant, clear and to be savoured slowly. In her office there was a huge map, occupying an entire wall. Seas, mountains and deserts.
I used to get lost in that detailed plan of the world.
Another thing that I loved were the sailing vessels on her desk: two beautiful models, perfect in every single detail. Momo even let me touch them. Of course with care.
She had a diary with blue decorations, in which she used to write, with elegant handwriting, her appointments. Who knows if she had, among all those thousands of appointments, also some romantic dates? I didn’t dare to ask her, because I couldn’t bear an affirmative answer. If she had a lover, he definitely didn’t deserve her. I imagined him as nasty, stingy and only interested in her beauty. I hated him.
“Another thing that I loved were the sailing vessels on her desk.”
I was completely charmed by her, without reservation. Her dark hair, her light skin, and that room full of fascinating secrets. Everything was perfect. I thought I could marry her, after all I had only to grow a bit more. Let’s say thirty centimetres. My parents would definitely be happy, because Momo was intelligent and beautiful.
She also said that I was very clever and that if I had worked hard enough, I would have been admitted to the best schools. “You have to do a job you like, Nicholas. Believe me. Otherwise you will not want to get up in the morning.“ This was right, no doubt! My high school career was excellent as well as my work. I love being a journalist, even if I am completely consumed by my commitments. I record them all, in order, in my black diary with light blue decorations.
Like today, Monday morning: sitting at my desk, I organize my weekly tasks. Conferences, meetings, articles to write and interviews. Certainly I wouldn’t want to get up, if all of this didn’t enthuse me. However, there is another reason why I wake up with a smile: Monday mornings have peach-scented air.
“Sitting at my desk,
I organize my weekly tasks.”
It accompanies me when I have breakfast and until I arrive at my office, where I read my favourite newspaper and drink the first coffee of the day, while opening my diary. I have the impression that the others don’t feel this, that it is there just for me, to wish me a good day.
My office is beautiful, nice and elegant, a light oak colour. I close the diary and I look around satisfied. It will be a busy week; certainly, I won’t have time to get bored. My gaze falls on my sailing ship models. One is on the bookshelf, the other is placed on a piece of furniture, so it can get all the attention it deserves. Momo gave them to the shy and full of fantasy child that I was before she left. “I am sure you will treat them well,” she said, while slowly caresses her hair. They couldn’t go with her, she explained to me, because they were taking up too much space. The promising young teacher was going to work in Europe.
Many years have passed, I am a grown up man, but I have not stopped wondering where she could be. I have no doubt that she is still beautiful and with a peach scent. Sometimes I stop to think about her. Now that I have become tall enough, I could close my diary full of appointments, get on a sailing boat and facing all the seas in the world, go to her.
“Facing all the seas in the world,
go to her.”