Remembrance    painting

Elisa was rich, very rich and perhaps, beautiful. Yes, she was still beautiful. She liked to lie in the sun, nude, reading a good book and smoking a Davidoff by the sea.

Around one p.m., a mild, soft wind brought rain clouds and it stirred something in her memory.

That same light, the same livid clouds. It was the fragrance of May.

They were playing hide-and-go-seek. Uncle Sergio was always cheerful. He was mum’s brother. Always funny, in spite of the fact that he was hunchbacked.

The rain began to pour. They looked to the hay barn for shelter. There, in the barn, uncle Sergio raped her, just for fun.

Elisa was 11 years old that fragrant May.