(Translated from Italian by Ubaldo Stecconi, but this has a few minor edits by me...because I couldn't help it. Also, the story appears here without expressed permission, but I'm not doing anything here for a profit. So Internet gods, be kind!)
Coincidences
by Stefano Benni
There were a city, a white bridge, and a rainy evening in that order. From one end of the bridge, a man with an umbrella and a coat was approaching. From the other end, a woman with a coat and an umbrella. In the exact center of the bridge, there were two stone lions that had been looking at one another for one hundred and fifty years. The man and the woman stopped, they looked at one another, too. Then, the man spoke:
Man: "Kind lady, strangers though we are, may I take the liberty of addressing you to point out a strange coincidence? If I am not mistaken, this is the fifteenth time this month that we've met at this very spot."
Woman: "You are not mistaken, dear sir. This is the fifteenth time today."
Man: "Allow me also to point out that every time, we are each carrying a book by the same author."
Woman: "Yes, I noticed that: he is my favorite author. Yours, too, I presume."
Man: "That is so. Permit me to say that each time we meet, you blush violently. Coincidentally, the same happens to me."
Woman: "This also struck me as strange. I might add that you smile ever so slightly, and so do I."
Man: "It is truly incredible. Moreover, each time I feel as though my heart pounds harder."
Woman: "Quite unique, sir. I feel the same way, and my hands tremble."
Man: "A very extraordinary series of coincidences. I might add that, after encountering you, for a few hours, I feel a strange and pleasurable sensation..."
Woman: "Like a feeling of weightlessness? Like walking on clouds? Like seeing everything in more vivid colors?"
Man: "You have perfectly described how I feel. And in this state of mind, I begin to fantasize..."
Woman: "Another coincidence! I, too, dream that you are but a step away from me, right on this very spot of the bridge, and you take my hands in yours..."
Man: "Exactly. At that precise moment, a boat sounds its siren from the river, the one they call 'love boat.'"
Woman: "Your fantasy is the same as mine, it is incredible! In mine, after that rather melancholic sound, for some reason, I lay my head on your shoulder."
Man: "And I caress your hair. In doing so, I drop my umbrella. We stoop at the same time..."
Woman: "And finding our faces so close, we kiss long and passionately. A man on a bicycle passes us by and says, '...Lucky you, lucky you...'"
They fell silent. His eyes were shining, so were hers. The melancholy wail of an approaching boat's siren could be heard in the distance. Then he said:
Man: "I think, Miss, that such a remarkable series of coincidences cannot be by chance."
Woman: "I think so, too, sir."
Man: "What I mean is, we are not dealing with a detail, but with a long sequence of details. There can only be one reason for this."
Woman: "Yes, indeed. There can be no other."
"The reason is," the man said, with a sigh, "that there are bizarre sequences in life, mysterious harmonies, signs that only give a hint of their meaning, but for which we possess no key."
"That is absolutely true," sighed the lady, "it would take a medium, or a fortune-teller, or maybe an expert in some esoteric discipline to be able to explain the strange fateful events which echo daily in our lives."
Man: "In any case, what happened to us is truly unique."
Woman: "A series of remarkable coincidences, no one can deny it."
Man: "Perhaps science will be able to decipher all this one day. Meanwhile, I apologize for any inconvenience."
Woman: "It was no inconvenience. Rather, it was a pleasure."
"Good bye, kind woman."
"Good bye, dear man."
They walked briskly away, each one their separate ways.
---
Our understanding of happiness is that for it to be true, it has to be forever. If it ends, then it can't be true happiness.
The tragedy there isn't our misunderstanding of happiness (for truly, it must be forever to be true), but our misunderstanding of "forever."
Forever is a grain of sand. A renegade eyelash, resting on a cheekbone.
It is the time it takes for the harsh words to go to the heart and then to the eyes, to then form tears. For a strand of hair to separate itself from its sibling strands, to begin the inevitable descent to the ground (or someone else's shirt).
It is a child's laughter. A dog's howl. An overly excited, just-saw-her-friends-at-the-mall-oh-my-god-what-are-you-doing-here, 16 year old girl's shriek.
The color pink. The color red. Persimmon. Pewter. Mauve. Vermilion. Crimson. Ocher.
Our entire lives are made of many forevers, and if we don't see the happiness in all of them, then it's our own fault we are sad.
(Yes, it is my fault. But it's so hard to catch a forever these days. But then it comes, and oh, how it comes.)
We live for the coincidences (for the goosebumps that come with the realization of the existence of a coincidence), for how else will we know that we are still alive?
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