Member-only story
Two Fishermen in Love a Century Ago
A fictional meditation on countryside romance inspired by a painting
Our families have always been close. The small community needed this proximity to survive, as there were no place for self-servitude when all had a role to play.
And it was for that exact reason that we managed to live the life we wanted without having to give up on the things we loved.
I have seen the city, I’ve met the people living over there. I’ve seen the things they love and desire, and what they hate. I’ve been in their shoes, even if only for a while, and I know the kind of life someone like me is relegated to.
We have to live under the shadows of shame, always caring for the watchful eye of the next person who will throw their hate at you. I wonder if, in the future, things will change. If things will be better for people like me — in the sense that, not only the circumstances of our lives will play a role in the acceptance of who we are, but people will learn how to love one another without the dark side of their expectations turning us into victims.
In our little neck of woods, everyone learned how to respect who we were, and to somewhat accept it, because their lives depended on it.
