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Monday, September 28, 2009

Le petit Chandelier (version 1)

The little chandelier was tired of listening to all those horrible secrets and watching all those naked bodies switching places and corners. It felt as if its pose just wasn’t right. It felt upside down. Not straight. It should’ve been straight. Thus, it would’ve looked like a bird with shiny feathers, not an old and withered bat hanging with its feet stuck on the ceiling.  It would swing from time to time, complaining about its uncomfortable position but nobody would care really. It was just one more lifeless object in the boat’s cabin. Or so they thought. The luxurious chandelier with its beads and precious stones was truly unhappy no matter how decorated and expensive it looked. It often dreamt about being an umbrella with silver dots, flying in the air and looking at things from a different perspective. As if an invisible hand would hold it still but free at the same time. A tiny insect would rest on one of its beads from time to time, enchanted by its dazzling rays of light and transparency. It would keep the little chandelier company and then it would simply disappear as if it never existed. At nights, the moans and noises would spice up the experience. Yet, the lighting would repeatedly burn the poor chandelier’s skin and no matter how hard it would try to heal its wounds, its scars and scratches would stay. Forever. And in the morning, the little chandelier would soothe its pain from the bruises and burnings and it would fall asleep, while thinking about that place they all called heaven, where everything was white and people spoke Spanish. Or so it thought. The night it all happened, the little chandelier was even more tired than usual. It noticed a strange crack on the ceiling and a loosened edge of its structure. The shadows coming from the silhouettes beneath it seemed to reveal a scenario the little chandelier had never thought before. An escape that now looked closer than any other time. The moment was right. There. Somewhere among the sexual positions and the true lies, the chandelier got the chance to take the big plunge and fall. It twisted in the air three times till it looked more like a pigeon than a bat. After electrocuting itself, it softly landed on a naked woman’s frizzy hair. They all thought both the poor chandelier and the young lady were dead. But they weren’t. When they both regained consciousness, the boat had already reached a place where everything was white and everyone spoke Spanish. Just a coincidence or a real game of fate? Leaving all false promises and animalistic instincts behind, the young lady threw her old life in a deserted lifeboat and decided to move on, thanking the rusty but honest chandelier for that. The little chandelier saw the sunlight for the first time, reflecting it on its glassy shapes and spreading it all around in a prismatic way. It seemed as if the light that bounced from bead to bead formed a halo around the young lady’s head, turning her into a maternal, holy figure. The young lady kept the little chandelier and the little chandelier, after some thought, eventually decided to keep the young lady, while they both looked for a different perspective of things in a new, faraway land…



2 comments:

  1. Maria, I read this piece of work once more today. I note that it is still my favourite. I have a chandelier at home, don't imagine anything fantasique, just a handy decorative lamp my flatmate has designed with dismandled aluminium clothes hangers and church chandlier beads, all transparent crystal. I look up at times, leave my eyes from the TV screen and glaze at it, I feel it has a connection with your writing, I know it does not, but I myself attribute the link to it, so much I have been occupied by the bizzare thought of the chandelier on the lady's head and the place with the white people that all speak spanish.
    I only have two possibilities in my head, but please never tell me. Either an institution, or Paradise. Never even try to indicate me to seek a third interpretation. These two serve me just fine.
    Thank you for such a masterpiece of writing.

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  2. Chris thanks! I've actually translated it in Greek as well - but changed it a bit (I now have two versions of it - don't know which one to keep for the anthology) :)

    P.S: I'll be waiting for your lovely 'television' thing! Looking forward to it! And I really really like tsiailis world:)

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