one of the places with a piggybank close to my heart, locally called the Solarium - a place for everyone, friendly with the calm sun beams and the turquoise water of the Ionian sea - wonderful for a book and a nap - retirees, poets, lovers, wealthy Americans with jewelry spread out on damp boards placed on the scaffolding for a fortune, came unknown lovers, escapees from everyday life and those for whom this is everyday - sometimes they come in bathrobes - everyone was at some point lying on these boards, sometimes a few centimeters apart - the best place is by the railing because you can hook an umbrella or hang a dripping suit on it. While swimming, or rather lazily drifting, in the salty water with my son's too tight glasses on, one morning I saw an octopus among the rocks.
I saw the movie "My Octopus Teacher" twice and cried, but then I ate the octopus several times in extreme hypocrisy, giving myself the right to be moved and indirectly depriving her of the right to live.
That day, I stopped for a moment at this stunning creature, full of delicacy, as if listening to its internal cheerful melody, flying and settling on the rocks as if it were landing in a balloon, and the ruffles of its dress made of waving tentacles were gently arranging millions of invisible creatures - so that it landed softly. I looked at her for only a few moments, but she managed to look at me with her one eye, which she seemed to turn towards me - she sat down on a rock and the color of her twisted dress was filled chameleon-like with the colors of the rock - this look was not timid, it was as if it was genuinely curious, or I wanted it to be so - I think about this little moment often, mainly when I'm distracted and want to get back to myself.
And I won't eat it anymore.
- Kasia -