This is a true story, like all stories. She was not a young woman, but not very old either. She lived in a northern European country, and had an unsatisfying bureaucratic job. Her parents lived in a near-by town, and their disapproving regard was cast over her life. She woke up every day to live the same day all over again. In August she went to visit friends in Italy, and worked in their garden to pay for her meals. It was easy to surrender to gluten pleasures, as there were rarely any other ones she could afford. A good plate of pasta, or maybe two, were a brisk moment of joy.
One day she won the lottery. I know it sounds ridiculously increadible, but it is true. She did not even fill a card, she was just picked by her phone number, quite randomly. She sold her little apartment, and moved to a wonderful villa in Italy. She decorated it expensively, picking and choosing designer chairs and lamps. She bought a new car, with an open roof, to travel in the Italian sun. Life was perfect. She was freed from her joyless job. She travelled in Europe with her fancy car. But it was not enough.
One of her friends took her to vacation in a third-world exotic country. He introduced her to some friends, who lived in a splendidly authentic little village. They were poor but happy. She was thrilled. One of them, let's call him Fidel, was a young hansom fisherman. He lived in a little hut, with his family. For lack of room he had to sleep in his mother's bed. But this was quite normal, they answered to her surprised look. Everyday he left the hut and went to the sea, where he set by the water and looked at the beautiful girls lying down to tan on the silky sand. At night he would set sail and go sailing, but not very often. Since he would not earn more than 20 dollars a month, there was no need to stress. He would have just as little, with or without working. Life went on.
When she saw Fidel, she understood what was lacking in her life. She needed a man. Freed from financial concerns, she, as an emancipated modern European woman, felt the urgent need to tie herself in new obligations. She gave Fidel expensive gifts. At first she gave him cash money, more than a year's pay at a time. Than she was told it might be offensive, and so she bought him expensive toys, like an international phone so he could call her, and a computer, so he coul dwrite to her while they were apart. Fidel accepted the gifts as if they were the just token of her admiration. It came as no surprise that she proposed to him to get married. His little affectionate gestures, too-wide a smile or a forced hug, were enough to satisfy her great craving for warmth. His exotic looks were more than she could even hope for. She longed for a lover. A man.
If it were a tale of fiction, there might have been a different ending. But since this is a true story, it could end in but one way. As soon as their marriage was official, Fidel detached himself from his new bride. He ignored her calls on his new expansive phone, and did not answer the emails she sent him when she was in Europe for a short visit home. She returned to his little village, just to discover he was still spending his nights in his mother's bed and could not be convinced to change his habits. Her passionate pleads could not move him. He still went to the beach, but stopped fishing, now that he was a rich man. She was a ruined woman. You would think it is silly, that she could get as many man as she wanted for her money. But his betrayal could not be overcome. Self-inflicted pain is the least forgettable. All her money could not free her, for she knew not how to be free.
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