The Bells of Saint Michel
I was walking down the street towards the school building. I still had a few long minutes to kill. My mind would not stop swirling my thoughts for a second. I pressed my hands against the sides of my head, hard as it would help my brains from spinning.
I spotted the cathedral on my left, with the corner of my eye, he only point of contact between me and the outside world making sure I would reach my destination. I heard silence for about one milion part of a second. I raised my head. I stepped one foot forward trying to assess the what, the why and the how I would go inside the church. I could not bring myself to a satisfying answer. Why would I go to church? Just because I do not trust myself enough and then I need to ask God for some luck at an irrelevant life exam? Or would it be for the candle that would help clean my consciousness for the one day I had not repeated the exam material? Maybe it’s because of my mom? I miss you, mom! Every single day in ways I would not have thought possible. I have a picture of you and dad on the TV shelter, I look at you every now and then and I am amazed of how beautiful you are, how radiant your smile is, how much you love dad. I sometimes talk to you and I ask you: what do you think about how I turn out? Is this right, or bad or… I can hear you answering back, on a joking tone, breaking giggles at the corner of your mouth saying that all my worries and problems are just silly nonsense… The bells of Saint Michelle began to ring. My busy head froze like struck by the sound of it. I knew that very moment that… I feel it now too. It takes more than an exam to stop me from going on. My dreams still need to be dreamt. My seeds need to be planted. Whatever the outcome, I am more than a name or a number or a topic in a exam. I am my mom’s girl to begin with.