Leading Ladies Anthology [FEATURED STORY]

@AnaSimons - Pictures on the Wall

PICTURES ON THE WALL

Weather.com

LONDON, UNITED KINGDOM

Mon, Feb 16

Temperature: 2º / 7ºC

Description: Showers

Precipitation: 10 mm

----------------------------------------------------

Gmail.com

Dear SOPHIE

Your reservation has been confirmed with the details we indicate below. Please find attached your hotel voucher, which should be presented at your hotel front desk. Your reservation number is 285269148.

Thank you.

Customer name: Sophie Thompson

Hotel: Saint Giles Hotel London

Check in: 16/02/2015 Check out: 02/03/2015

Single room | Breakfast included

Contact: soph.e.thompson@gmail.com

----------------------------------------------------

There's nothing like the smell of coffee in the morning, that fresh brewed aroma that surreptitiously invades everywhere and awakes your senses for the new day!

The house was still quiet when I held my coffee mug and went to the office. I closed the door carefully, had Pablo Alborán's album playing and sat at the desk. I checked the weather, thought I better look for my gloves, printed the hotel and flight reservation papers, made sure I had the USB drive in the pencil case and reviewed my teaching notes. Everything was set for another travel abroad.

I am used to it, but it is always difficult for me, to leave home; and this time it was going to be even harder. I couldn't help staring at my boy's drawings I keep pinned to a cork board and let out a smile: God, he's terrible! No, he won't be an artist, that's a fact! ‒ but to me, of course, those were priceless works of art.

Then I got lost in the pictures displayed on the wall and started flipping through the photo album I hold in my memory: it was impossible not to feel nostalgic, remembering his first tooth, first steps, first ball kicks, the first time he touched sand and how he hated it. Oh, and his first word. Papa. I almost felt resentful back then! Apparently P's are easier to pronounce than M's.

This boy is the light of my life, my greatest achievement, the one that gives meaning to everything else. I look at him and believe I won't disappear when I'm gone; I'll keep on living through his memories, and then through the ones he will share with his own children.

And I just couldn't resist: I sneaked into his room and stayed there for a while, observing him sleep, nestled all snug in his bed, so quiet, so peaceful. On the wall, over the nightstand, a large black and white picture, one of those priceless moments eternalized by the camera: his tiny, little foot brushing Alex's face, meanwhile dozing off on the bed, beaten up by exhaustion.

For someone who was quite reluctant about the idea of having children, Alex ended up becoming a very good father. He is very careful and protective, surprisingly patient and at the same time very playful and funny. Quite often Charlie believes they're both infringing norms behind my back, such as saying a curse word mama would never approve of or turning off the lights a bit later than supposed, and our boy feels they're partners in crime and that daddy is the coolest there is!