The stories in the Pool

How much courage does it take to create a story with your own life? Not unconsciously. I mean, when you decide to start weaving a story out of sheer exhaustion so that later you can write it or write it word by word as the story unfolds. It has been over thirteen years since I started going to the pool for an hour a day. Sometimes it takes longer, up to two hours, and during these times, I have heard stories of people's lives with different cultures and countries.

In 2010, I started writing in English. The first story became "A Lady in the Pool." It was even published, but I don't remember where. My writing continued until last year when people's stories ended, and no new story was left. Now I had to become the protagonist of my own story and create it. I reached the age of seventy.

Reaching the age of seventy means looking back at the long road you have traveled.

I asked myself, "How many years have passed since I wrote any love story? Have I never experienced a love story at all? Has my heart not been allowed to beat freely? Do love, passion, and excitement in life come to an end at seventy?

I hope you have seen the movie ” living”.Suddenly, a man whose life has been buried under heaps of files was informed that he had cancer. That's when the man starts searching for the meaning of life, for the moments he has missed and regretted not living.

I thought I should do something. Something a seventy-year-old woman wouldn't do because she doesn’t have this right, because society convinces us that at seventy, women's hearts can’t beat, but men at any age have the right to make their hearts beat with love again.

I thought I should fall in love. I started. First, it became poetry, the poems I have published on Sundays Post. And then, it turned into a story.

If I can copyright the stories to prevent them from being plundered, I will definitely start sharing stories of the pool on My Sunday Post. I will tell you about my Mexican friend Gustavo, who says, "Monica, I can't sleep at night because when I close my eyes, people come to me in my dreams and turn into emojis."

Or maybe I write about the Great Loser, with Tatoes on his shoulders and arms.

But... First, I need to copyright the stories correctly.

After a year of creating love stories... I think the best time for love is after seventy... If suddenly, on your birthday, a sixteen-year-old girl jumps out of you and asks, "What have you done with me all these years?"

I didn't tell you... My name is difficult, so to make it easier for friends at the pool to pronounce it, I shortened my name... Moni—Monica—Mon... Throughout all these years, only one person pronounced my name correctly the first time...Have you ever fallen in love with someone just because he pronounced your name correctly?

Me? Yeah. I have a love story about someone, and in every sentence, my name was preferred... I'm sorry, Moniro… Thank you, Moniro

No one was there to tell him

that repeating a woman's name like this drives her insane.

Now the story is over, gone... I just have to write the final manuscript, and maybe someday I will publish the pool story here in the Sunday Post.