THE GIRL AND THE YARD WITHOUT WALLS

Abstract

The smell of wet earth rose even before the rain began to fall. Birds, flying in flocks, covered the blue sky, forming the shape of a V, and soon disappeared into an uncertain horizon.

Joana grew up among trees, even though she lived in the city. In those days, life was different. Joana had just turned ten years old. The street where she lived wasn’t paved, and she played with her little paper boat, which sailed down the street in the rainwater, weaving between the gravel stones.

The year was 1997. At that time, the houses on Joana’s street had no walls; they were separated by wire fences, fragile enough to remind everyone that no one there needed to hide from anyone else. Neighbors knew each other by name, by voice, by their stories. Everyone knew everyone. Joana played with Cristina, Fábio, and Renata. They played tag, hide-and-seek, dodgeball, and so many other games.

The afternoons seemed endless.

When evening came, Joana’s mother would shout, “Come inside, girl! It’s time for your bath!”

Joana would come back skipping, her feet dirty with soil and her face streaked with sand and sweat. She would say, “See you tomorrow.” The next day, they would all be there again, wrapped in a world of games without screens, surrounded by nature: colorful butterflies, crickets jumping through the dry grass, and the daisy-like flowers that decorated Joana’s backyard with a burst of color.

Lying on the dirt ground, Joana looked up at the blue sky. In her imagination, many shapes formed in the clouds that slowly dissolved like smoke carried away by the wind. They faded away—just like Joana’s childhood.

Silent.
Light.
Without warning...

One day it would drift away and disappear into space, leaving time with the most beautiful and genuine memories, from a simple and real world, inside a small place called a backyard without walls