Art by: Marisa
Story by: Federico Fontanella
Her feet glided with grace on the slippery surface. Below her, reflected clearly, idle virgin clouds and the blinding sun.
One-two, one-two, her dance continued. A spin and the world whirled around her, white and blue and deliciously cold - and her, a speck of red on immaculate snow.
Can you see me, father?
She stopped abruptly.
Those were her memories, she knew it well, and yet they were so far from her... far from there... it was as though it was not her life at all.
Not an easy man to like, her father, and not one who cared to be liked. Chains bound everyone he loved to him – a wife looking for independence, a son looking for affection.
She picked up her movements again, more slowly.
A daughter who wanted freedom.
A shiver ran down her spine. It wasn't the wind.
No one can see me.
Her head was empty of all thoughts: the silence was absolute. One-two, one-two, her dance continued.