THE BALLAD OF THE LOST GLOVES
Glove #1
The air stings, just like the beard I forgot to trim this morning, too. You remind me to do it every day. Even today, you fixed the shaver on number 1, the best length for my face’s shape. I know it’s your favorite shape, actually, but I do pretend you do it in an unselfish way.
The air stings, the weather is cold. I cannot feel my right hand’s fingertip. I had a glove in my pocket, a green, and purple one with a lime-colored detail. A punk concert poster, honestly. I can’t find it anymore, I’ve lost it. I got it yesterday, but not today. My mind is focusing on the geography of my daily walking towards the office: the house’s stairway, the sidewalk that leads me to the bakery store, the bus on which people can’t stay away from me as I’d love to.
It was the right-hand glove, I had it in my pocket. Perhaps it happened right on the damn bus, when I took the phone to send you a further ‘morning’. A series of emojis, as a DNA sequence that only the two of us can interpret. I was fond of that glove. While I’m wearing the left one – the survivor – I remember you looking at them with disappointment. Too many colors, daring matches: you never speak frankly to me about it, but you’d prefer me to wear more discreet tones. Black, icy gray, smoke gray: sometimes, when I sit at my desk, I turn my eyes away from the PC, and observing the winter landscape behind the window glass I spot the sadness you wish I was similar to.
It’s ten to nine AM, the office door is looking at me, asking me to walk in. To be in a hurry is something negative for those who lose something on their way. I take one final look around, even if I know it’s not the place where I lost my FILA glove. I put my hand inside the pocket, I needed to feel the sensibility of my fingerprints again. I take my phone and send you a final emoji on WhatsApp – you know I never forget it. I enter the door step by step: the more I walk, the more I start to feel my hand again. It feels cold around me, I can see no colored spots in the snow.
