Draft of a Life - Episode I

When the time comes to part, I involuntarily think about the future of this relationship. Minnie looks at me perched on her beloved leather sofa. Expressionless. Minnie... She could be a fossil of the 80s or a caricature of the iconic era where young people, that is guys like me who are today on the threshold of third age, discovered a more abstract version of everyday life, created new values, free from political obsessions and obsessive-compulsive syndromes that plagued the youth of the past decade and liberated their dreams by simply living them to the rhythms of post-disco culture, house, techno, getting high, creating new arts and renovating the letters, all adapted to the spirit of the most pivotal era of the 20th century.
As I stand there, caught in the nostalgia of it all, Minnie's gaze seems to hold a thousand unspoken words. Her eyes, once bright with the fire of rebellion, now appear subdued, as if the years have tempered her spirit. Yet, there's a glimmer of defiance in her posture, a silent challenge to the passing of time.
"Will we meet again?" I ask, breaking the silence that has grown thick between us.
Minnie's expression doesn't change, but her voice carries a hint of melancholy. "Perhaps. If the winds of time bring us together again."
I nod, understanding the uncertainty that underlies her words. We both know that life has a way of scattering people like leaves on an autumn breeze. Yet, there's a connection between us, forged in the fires of our youth, that refuses to be extinguished.
As I turn to leave, Minnie rises from her sofa, her movements fluid and deliberate. She walks towards me, her heels clicking softly on the floor. For a moment, I'm transported back to those nights when the world seemed to belong to us, when every step felt like a declaration of independence.
"Minnie," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
She stops in front of me, her eyes locking onto mine. "Yes?"
I hesitate, unsure of how to express the emotions swirling inside me. "Thank you," I finally say, the words feeling inadequate but true.
Minnie smiles, a small, enigmatic smile. "For what?"
"For being a part of my journey," I reply, my voice filled with sincerity.
Her smile widens slightly, and for a moment, I see the girl she once was, full of life and laughter. "You were part of mine too," she says, her voice tinged with a mix of sadness and gratitude.
We stand there, suspended in time, as the world outside seems to fade away. Then, with a gentle nod, Minnie steps back, and I know it's time to leave.
As I walk out into the evening, the city lights twinkling like stars, I feel a sense of peace settle over me. Whatever the future holds, I know that Minnie will always be a part of me, a reminder of the dreams we chased and the moments we shared in the vibrant tapestry of our youth...