Beskrivelse av boka
“I felt more like drowning in the gray sea among the traveling boats of a pastel painting.”
“The Love Of Illusion” is Mentis Bal’s first literary fiction. It will make you like other books with its fluent style and spelling style that will make you feel like a fictional character.
Living love is like a dream…
“If you forget time, even whispers awaken you, taking away your happiness as if it’s never been real.”
Today I saw her walking down the sidewalk in front of my house. The swinging of the bag hanging on her left shoulder was emphasizing the fatigue on her face, and the sourness of her face with pointed chin was framing her pain. Her right hand, that looked as if it belonged to a princess and made of cotton, was on the strap of her bag, and she was swinging her left as she walked on.
She had a very cold face. Her silky straight blond hair of the lightest shade was fluttering backward with the wind blowing at every step, her smooth skin seemed to be defying time as if she would never again be as old as yesterday.
Her eyes, those eyes… At first glance, I thought she didn’t have a retina. I couldn’t take my eyes off the greyness of the mist under her eyelids and squinted to see a little bit better. Suddenly, we caught each other’s eyes, momentarily, as she glanced at me. Her pupils resembled shiny ice, as if a pair of snowflakes reflected the colour of the cleanest ocean in their frozen state, lit up by a transparent shade of blue.
I waited for her get a little farther away. I dropped the hose I was holding to water the grass and started walking after her. I was wondering.
About her life…
Where does she live? What does she like? What doesn’t she like? Has she ever cried? How often does she laugh? How many times a minute does she blink? Does anybody else notice her? Who does? Can she love someone? Does she ever fall in love?
Eventually, she walked in towards the entrance of a house whose garden was conjoined with the sidewalk she’d been walking on. Now I knew her address, and I knew where to find her. She lived right down the street. She took off her backpack. Then she hugged a man in his forties with a thin beard and a curved nose whom I thought could be her father, or rather they hugged each other. Then she hugged her mother. They were talking among each other and sounds of their laughters were making my ears ring.
She is a beautiful angel, an absolute angel! When she got in and closed the door, I found myself as a young man standing on the opposite sidewalk, wearing a pair of slippers, short shorts and a colourful patterned T-shirt, staring at their door.