Photography
That night he turns back and winks at her. Then she dreams he is drowning in the sea, being sucked
up by the current and then spat out, only to fall in again, deeper, deeper. She reaches for him,
screaming, but no sound comes out because she is underwater. Bubbles, just bubbles, float before
her face until they disappear. She wakes up and looks into Mick’s big blue eyes and sees the sea, and
Patrick, her eldest boy, who has the same eyes as his father, sailing away from her.
When another school year is due to start and Patrick’s clothes no longer fit the boys, she
goes shopping for new ones and she realises they are nearly young men. She does the maths quickly,
in the middle of the shop floor – she was always good at maths – and works out her eldest is
twenty-three now, four away.
That’s how the years go.
Twenty-five now, six away.
Thirty-one now, twelve away.
The big forty now, twenty-one away.
Her dreams are always the same.
His face never ages, the wrinkles she has seen in the photographs never appear, his hair
never greys. His eyes always twinkle the bright blue of the sea sparkling in the sun. He says goodbye
at the gate. Gives a final wave and walks down the road.
Laura Riva is a photographer/
creative mind/art-lover from
Milan. She’s trying to realise
her dreams and inspire her
audience through her biggest
passion: photography.
Laura Riva