Amor perfeito

The 200 escudos you took. I didn't take any money. I entered the house and she followed me closely. Maybe I had wandered in my sleep, sleep walking, and really taken the money. The nagging doubt. I sometimes could see shadows, smoked figures, details not nitid. Felt a hand caressing my hair. A presence mostly. I doubted whether it was a real being. Still do. And yet…. Have felt it so long that became common place. Came to accept it. Not really long for it, because it are ghosts. But in some strange way their presence comforts me. What for so long scared me, with time became comforting and a companion in the lonely and crowded moments. The shadow presence, and presences at times, never hurt me: it is a hug, a caress of my hair, a kiss on my cheek, a caress of my broken foot. My mom passed in front of me and showed me the made-up bed, lifting the bottom right corner of the mattress as she mumbled where is the money, what have you done with it? I could perceive the light blue blanket and the blanket and cover. There was nothing there but the wooden sticks supporting the mattress. In the evening, my mom told my dad about the missing money. No. I had not taken it I guess. But can’t be sure. Can’t remember ever taking it. And yet was my own mom accusing me of it. Why was she so sure it had been me? There was no doubt in her voice or manner: I was being convicted without the possibility of defending myself. If I had taken the money, where was it? I went to my small bridal box, a small trinket in dark varnished wood near the bed. It wasn’t there. Maybe under my pillow? It wasn’t there either.