Real Love Story

In the house of bubbles A Real Love Story | Love Stories to Read

‘Hello good Morning, what’s up? Did you sleep well? Yes, you looked beautiful between the sheets. Know? I have had a wonderful dream. Come if you insist so much I’ll tell you. Well, I dreamed that I was in an incredible place on top of a mountain with the sea in the background and the moon so big and so close that if you stretched out your arm you could caress it …

Yes, it may sound cliché, but let me keep telling you. It turns out that on top of that mountain there was a kind of house, huge, with a design worthy of Gaudí himself, with narrow tubiform corridors that led to dozens of bubble-shaped rooms, with circular windows overlooking an infinite sea, since it had no horizon and it was confused with the sky …

I know it’s a very detailed description, but it was so real … I wish the dreams could be shared … I’ll keep telling you.

Well, in that unique building there was a party in full swing with hundreds of guests distributed throughout the different gardens and dance halls. There were waiters serving select canapes and glasses of French champagne …

That I have a lot of imagination? Well, you know that dreams cannot be designed, otherwise I would have added a couple of details to mine. No, I’m not going to tell you what they are. Why not. Because I hope that one day it will come true and you already know that if a wish is told, it will no longer come true. Do not be angry and let me continue to tell you, just guess what I was referring to before …

I was at that party so elitist. The rest of the people were complete strangers, in fact I saw them as black and white …

How do I know? Well they say that intelligent people can distinguish colors in dreams, so I let you complete the syllogism … Ha ha, well, I’m not a snob, but you know I love to tease you early in the morning. Since you don’t leave me, I’m never going to finish.

I was sitting sipping my drink when suddenly time slowed down and all those gray figures were walking, dancing and moving like in slow motion. I looked at them with a certain concern that announced to me that something special was about to happen, I felt an extraordinary presence that little by little gained intensity and approached me.

And then it happened. From one of the doors that led to the garden entered a woman, radiant as day, beautiful and mysterious as night. A very delicate human sculpture, carved with care and dedication by wise and supernatural hands, knowing perfection. A black, wingless angel who pushed her way through people with the grace of a swan.

I was hypnotized and couldn’t take my eyes off her. At one point, feeling observed by me, she stopped and started walking towards me with a seductive smile. He brought his lips to my ear and whispered a word, a name, yours: Michelle.

And I woke up next to you.

‘In my life I knew a woman just like La Flaca, a
black coral from Havana, a tremendous mulatto.
One hundred pounds of skin and bone, forty kilos of Salsa,
in the face two suns that speak without words … ‘

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