Lara realized that the white shirt she had wanted for two weeks
was an absurd enthusiasm. This waiting made her forget to be
happy. She had waited to buy it and now she had to wait to get rid
of it. She didn’t know where it was. Actually, what she didn’t know
was how to look for it.
There were lots of white shirts falling down from the sky, looking
like parachutes. They appeared every morning and fell down
to the ground with an invisible robe. The white shirts represented
purity, cleanliness and freshness. The day was new. It was exciting
that every living creature got to wear them. The new day was hot
bread just out of the oven. A new and spotless twenty-four hours
were in front of anyone with a white shirt.
The owners of these white shirts realized the shirts had five
holes by the end of the day. Their souls were full of holes and they
added five more each day. They knew how to patch things up, but
they couldn’t handle the holes in their shirts.
Every day this attack was repeated and the holes passed through
to the souls. The emptiness caused by them