I trek in the journey of my life, travelling in the highway of someone else’s life
I see their history crashing into mine.
I see people. Mother, daughter and grandaughters.
The grandaughter’s gestures is like
poetry reflecting in the mother’s eyes.
Soon her random and improbable words make history in the woman’s life.
Does she know enough to say this?
“Say it! Say it darling!”
I hear the woman speaking.
The improbable is more improbable than fate.
Their languages are wildly different
But their passion to each other turns everything different into similar ways.
I turn back. Back to my own highway..
Knowing that I profit from someone else’s travel.