Zephyrs of Time Part 1

A glass full of water tumbled at the edge of the wooden table. In silence, she waits and observes it, she topples the edge and with a poke turns around its center of mass, a second poke it sways around its axis, a third and widens its rotation. The water swirled for a moment, creeping the walls of the glass on one and the other side, it builds momentum and excess of water at the edge of the glass. If it spills out the right amount of water, it won't fall -she thinks- If it takes too much time to spill it, a whole turbulent flow of would top the edge against towards the table pouring diamond drops of water off the table. The last millimeter... -she thinks- The glass rotates over an edge rotates and eventually falls. A cascade of liquid drips down the table.

The girl Dalia, irritated with the situation knew she could stop it with a blow-off her nose. Now she knows she has to clean up the mess. Her mom, is getting ready to reprehend her, but she can't contain the flow of emotions that like the water in the cup, lie now spilled all over the kitchen's ground the water like tears, burst to the ground while dripping all over the corridor, Dalia cries. 

For Dalia, every single moment is as intense as the previous one, long days and short nights make her living just bearable. So small Dalia lies deep in a sea of ethereal time-space, sleep is her way out.

How can we slow down an idea papa? Ideas are too fast... they blink too quickly and I can't follow them.  Horatio, her father, was somehow a reasonable man, who enjoyed imagination, dreams esotericism, and the mystique nature of reality. During the day Horation worked at the local factory but his passion in life was the study of stones. He said, my dear Dalia, one can not slow down an idea because ideas emerge at the same speed that you create them. For that, you would need to slow down your own speed of imagination, create the idea let it open its wings, and then speed up quickly! to catch it in fly. However, it is likely that you could speed up so fast that the idea could be disrupted or scattered in many directions, by the time it is likely your idea would be forgotten...

Little Dalia didn't comment about, and instead, turned to the other kids and went to play in the sand with them. She suddenly returned to her joyful five-year-old age and played for hours as a normal kid. Just like if she would have forgotten a hundred years of life. 

Dalila, her mother, was deeply concerned about Dalia's long daily pauses and shivery speech. Her mood swings, she thought were a sign perhaps of a disease. For her, such behavior was harmful, and sometimes it would take the form of delirium. 

- Poor Dalia my dear Horatio, she must suffer every time she confronts reality in such a way. Her stories are frightening to me she is just a little girl.  Dalila never thought her life would be so hard, by having to raise a kid who can be the sweetest and the weirdest at the same time. Dalia's duality was uncommon. Regardless of the mother's feelings, she never dared to take Dalia to the doctor. Afraid of comments on her or her daughter, society in that little town was expecting normalcy. After all, a quiet little town would be thoroughly disrupted by a desperate mother with a psychotic kid. 

She thought that giving her most of her mother's attention would keep her away from her own harm. But Dalila was yet aware of the marvels and wonders that her own daughter held.

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