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Alicia Cros

I get up while holding the tail of my sky blue dress and I spin the white cotton napkin that I hold with my fingertips. I whistle along with the rest of the people who accompany me in this invitation asking the bride and groom to say a few words.

Today Sonia, my great friend, is getting married and I, moved, would like to dedicate a poem to her, one of my writings that I don’t know if I will dare to pronounce. The bride and groom take over the microphone and make their speeches, at some point they even break into tears. When they finish, they invite us to open their gift, which is round, silver and small, and rests next to each guest’s card.

It is an important day for me, Sonia is committed to the man she has chosen, and I feel the mantle of joy resting on my shoulders accompanied by the caress of happiness that I know he will have. I open the metal cover, pull out the cloth inside and take out a pink scarf with which I cover my neck and, without further ado, get up to go to the dance floor.

At this moment, I find the handkerchief at the bottom of the dresser drawer, reminding me that I never spoke the words that told our story. I go to the big window that lights up my desk and immersed in a sea of stored emotions, I drop the handkerchief and write.

Today I write for you. I write little stories that fill your feelings for those you love and connect with your guests. I write micro-stories that link to a unique memory that you give away, through words. Because our lives are stories and our stories leave a mark.