Maybe we needed more delinquency in our youth. It's not totally impossible that we missed some thrill, the wrong thing so near that it could easily fit in a pocket, an unsuspected object misplaced, a word that innocently caught the eye while someone looked the other way: for moments, we could believe that there was a "before" and an "after" and make ourselves permanently less perfect with what time would reveal to be a joke. Yes, little Spartans for a day, not because we could, not because survival rested on immorality, but because one should feel life tremble, rocked with one's own hands, thus letting expectations turn like leaves and fall. A rush of adrenaline and a sickness of stomach - so we'd swear "never again". An unutterable but, finally, a well taken risk.
We'd be quiet now, remembering the rush and the sickness, with both fondness and disgust. To wake up with a laugh and then, on to a job like everyone else's, signatures and forms to fill in, miles of cables and square feet of circuits. Summer comes and we stroll along to the same beach as the year before. No thoughts like "maybe this year!", as the wind slightly breaks the warmth of the sun's welcomed rays. The cool breeze fades into a memory of something whispered, and the sea, the seagulls and sun bring a calm lust: we almost smile, for autumn is just another season, not another chance.
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