Birds chanted in the sky of a wide valley.
The sun shone conquering the thickness of few passenger clouds, with perseverance, it made it seem like a spring day but it was only the middle of February.
It wasn't cold but wasn't warm either, the contrast between the date and the weather was so distinguable that ,innocently became questioned, maybe the sun was no longer emitting heat and the space was no longer cold, maybe I lost the sensation of the temperature or maybe it's just a picture I am looking at, in a book, in a gallery, in my head, not physically real but real in certain ways that I can't explain...
Looking around, peeking at every detail, searching for a crack, even the tiniest, in my very perfect picture but my vulnerable eye couldn't catch a mistake.
Trees were encircling the valley, so huge that if stood under they could seem to touch the sky, but from my spot I knew that they didn't, because the sky could never be touched. A small house was somewhere in the sight, with a chimney from which ascended a thread of fume that, as far as i followed faded away like a memory.
Voices of children, pleasing, dominated all the other voices. However, no kid was playing around, not in the valley, not in the woods, not in the house, not anywhere I can see. Then, along with the sweet laughters, perfect melodies played from a piano.
A piano in the wild? You might ask, but it wasn't just that, drums and hissing too.
The birds! Where are they? I couldn't see any. The noises where in a harmony that I couldn't describe. The light was losing its brightness as I blinked fast unable to recognize. The house! Where is it? The air! Am choking! I took a grope of the grass I was sitting on, hit the ground with my other fist several times as I reached for air in vain. The noises are louder now and the picture is getting blurry and inclined as if I was looking at it while i am lying down and that's exactly how I was, lying down.
White hallows hovered around me, angels? Ghosts? I couldn't tell. Is it heaven? Maybe hell? Maybe none.. am I alive? More noises, not in harmony with others, slightly louder than the birds and kids and slightly quieter that the drums and the hissing..
But somehow, at that random moment I knew that the loud drums are my heartbeats, the hissing is my tears streaming against my skin, the birds were from the window, the children running in the corridor, the piano came from a radio next to the framed picture of the valley in my hospital room and the chaotic noises are the voices of the doctors and nurses that I thought were hallows trying not to lose me during my stroke.
