The confession

When I was a child, I broke the egg shell mirror in thousands of crystalline potsherds. Then, swiftly, the emotions and the sound of life fall down on me; the sound which was spread in thousands of ghosts followed me then till nowadays.
After moments of thinking I started to give birth to the egg that I once spread but the potsherds did not fuse one with each other, and when the smallest wind blow flew, these where crushing down in a pile.
I started to cry so loud that the sound of life got me sad and left away … then the emotions rushed into me conscientiously. In the immediate after moment the wind appeared from nowhere and one tear to an infinite fall down on one potsherd.
Just like that I’ve started to stick them.
In my closer surrounding area I could distinguish the desert of the lonely moments, each one hanged by a ravenous thought to my shy movements.
I asked the Sun if he doesn’t mind to dry my tears, but he was too strong so that he burned all around and the infamy happiness drops I was awaiting for many days.
I asked the Moon to freeze my sweats that drained on my forehead, but she was hiding far away from my look, so I spent the nights in wilderness.
I was loosing days, even weeks to fix one potsherd, but all was hopeless – when I was sleeping underneath the fall of clepsydra, the message I seek for was propagate in demolition.
Standing years and years nearby the same sand, same potsherds, I was throwing the same looks to the doom and around me a huge spider web was build.
Through the cobweb of death I was looking with my eyes empty, furrowed by small blood rivers and looking for my own destiny in the horizon. I closed my eyes to run for the last breathe but unexpectedly I heard something weird; I bashfully opened my eyes and somewhere far you could sense the knocking escaped by a shadow stretched on the sand. I’ve went to take a closer look but the potsherds were gone, only the shade was coming slowly straight to me … we both had common movements.
I screamed for her but after long time the same roar was crushed on my body.
Suddenly all started to rotate with me in the centre and when I had to look for my zenith I saw a strange cut-up hole to which a light drop blinded me and I fell down to the ground.
A blood oasis took birth in my palm … the only potsherd that was left wounded my soft palm skin.
Then I raised and offered my hand to the Sun and I saw the zenith; the blood drops transformed into snowflakes.
“Evrika! Evrika!” – I screamed.
The Moon vanished, the Sun also … only the echo of life came back and whispering: CONFESSION – on which palm was carved!!!