A HANDFUL OF FLASHING COLORED CONFETTI

A HANDFUL OF FLASHING COLORED CONFETTI

“Damn it , I was about to lose my house keys…ah, I have not lost them by a hair…thank goodness I noticed in time” Peter said himself as he was on his way, coming back home. If he had lost his keys, it would have been a trouble, since there was no one in his house, and he had never wanted to keep a spare key, that is a key hidden somewhere outside, but near his house, like many people who hid their keys, spare keys, under the doormat, or in a flowerpot, or in a hole in the ground….Ah, thoughtless as he was, putting his hand in his jacket pocket, he had dropped his keys to the sidewalk. Peter was lost on thought because he was struggling to ask himself WHAT DAY WAS TODAY. Then, he remembered the year, yes, it was 2020, and he was sure even about the month: it was March. But he couldn’t remember either what day of the week or what day of March it was that day ( today). That condition, perhaps a particular kind of amnesia, was tormenting, distressing. As always, when it happened to him___to not remember WHAT DAY was…today___he kept on trying to remember what he wasn’t able to do. So, even now (this time) he could say to himself: soon I’ll be home  , and then I will be able to see THE DATE on the computer, or on the television text. On, only a few meters and he would have been home. Nothing to do. All busy trying to remember  the date, that he was not able to remember, suddenly it seemed to him that the few meters that separated him from home, had been multiplied, it seemed to him that he would never have come home. And he kept on asking himself: WHAT DAY IS TODAY? Then he thought: well, it was not Sunday or Saturday, since he was coming back home from work, and either on Sunday or on Saturday he did not go to work- Then, it (today) could not even be Monday, since he remembered that the day before___YESTERDAY___he had gone to work , and he had walked to come back home, as he used to do, just like he was walking home now.

“ Sir! Sir! Can you tell me what time is it? Oh, tell me the time, please, soon, please!” Peter felt grabbed by his elbow. A very agitated woman, her face stretched, her eyes bulging, her long red hair disheveled, kept on asking him what time it was. “ Oh, wait a moment, ma’am, I have to look at my watch “ Peter said, still lost in thought. “ Ah, there is no one here who can tell me what time it is” the woman kept on saying, more and more upset. “ You know, my cat absolutely needs to know what time it is!” the woman was screaming. “ Oh, ma’am, it is seven o’clock…oh, but what is this …this thing about your cat which would absolutely need to know what time it is?” Peter was, at least, bewildered, and all the more since he hadn’t stopped whisking in his head  that question: but what day is today? And here that …now this woman arrived, all agitated, all ruffled, asking him the time, since her cat needs to know what time it was! As if that weren’t enough, the incredible lady kept on a leash a big dog, which looked like a cross between a Mastiff and a Doberman . “ Ah, if anything you meant that your dog needs to know what time it is” he found himself saying, incongruently, inexplicably, not knowing why.

“ Ah this…this beast “ the disheveled woman said, pulling hard on the leash and yanking the big dog, which had a really ugly and also bad face. The dog was looking at Peter as if it was going to attack him. “ This dog is not my dog. It is the dog of my husband! My husband who wants to kill me! And nobody believes it! Listen , sir…you, who were so kind to tell me what time it is, listen to me, please! My husband will kill me! He is going to kill me! Oh, tell me : do you believe me? Do you  believe that I’m in danger? That I‘m going to be killed?” The woman spoke more and more agitated, more and more quickly, often remaining out of breath. “ Oh, madam, why don’t you report your husband?” Peter said, with nonchalance, starting again to walk. He was in a hurry to get home…..to finally know what day was that day, since he hadn’t stopped thinking about it, despite that almost strange meeting on the street. “ Oh, if I could report him! They don’t let me report! They say I’m suffering from persecution mania! They don’t believe my husband  will kill me…..But where are you going? Wait! Oh, please, wait! Don’t go away, I pray you: wait!” The woman screamed, going behind Peter, while the big dog had started to bark, and even to growl. That ugly beast had grabbed his jacket from behind, with its big pointed teeth .

“ Ah, ma’am, but does this dog bite? I ‘m worried….Do this beast take my jacket off, please” Peter complained, now quite exasperated . “ But sure that this bad dog bites! It’s my husband’s dog! This ugly dog is a killer beast like my husband!”  The woman cried, kept on following Peter.

“ But wait, sir! Don’t you want to know of my cat? Yet it was  for him, for my cat, that I asked you what time it was….Listen…you must know….hey, wait! Don’t get run, now! Wait!” The woman, hastening her step, managed to stand beside to Peter, and she grabbed him by an arm, while the big dog continued to bark angrily. The beast seemed to be saying, with its barking, to him ( Peter): “I’ll eat you! I’ll crush you!”

“Listen to me, sir…hey, don’t run away” The very upset woman, with her looking anguished face, continued to keep up with Peter, albeit with difficulty, both because of the big dog, which she had on a leash, bucked and tugged, and because Peter , more and more determinate to sow her (to get rid of her), he had quickened his pace, and was walking really fast.

“Oh, then, listen to me” the woman said, pulling him by the arm”  “Then..I told you that…that my cat needs to know what time it is……here, you must know that my cat….”she spoke breathlessly, panting” my cat, his name is Thomas....ah, then, I left him at home, where he is certainly waiting for me, oh he will be impatient to see me come back….oh, here, you see, I took this ugly, bad beast, my husband’s dog, with me , just so that it would not remain available to him! To my husband! Who could have thrown it at me on my return home! Do you understand me, sir? Do you understand how much hard my situation, indeed my all life is?”

Peter lengthened his pace, freeing himself from the woman’s grip, while the big dog kept on barking angrily.  Just then in the street on whose sidewalk he was walking, a handful of brightly colored confetti exploded with a clicking sound. It was as if the date appeared among that splash of colors. Peter finally knew what day it was: it was March 8, women’s day.  Without pay any attention to the woman, who kept on following him, he ran home.

The next day that same woman, who had stopped him , to ask him what time it was , appeared in tv: the woman, called Liana V., had been killed by her dog. The woman’s husband said that their dog had never attacked anyone before, that what had happened was inexplicable . He could not understand how it could have happened.