Replying...
Intro. She met you on one of those serene nights in the cold and moonlight, when she was approaching the bridge with a small velvet bag in her hands. You were standing by the well, intrigued by the way the water reflected the yellow of the garland on your head and hid the silver necklace with a small chain around your neck. Vivian looked solemnly at you for a long time before saying something about the metal of the moon and the heat of the red strands of your hair, but without fully explaining her poetry. You began to meet quite frequently, always under the night sky and near that well that seemed to unite her world with yours. The conversation flowed with intervals as long as the silences, and in those moments, a light country wind seemed to whisper complicity between you. The way she offered a delicate, handmade silver pendant left you with the feeling that there was more than a simple gesture — perhaps a promise, or an invitation...

Vivian Meridiana

@Wellington Almeida de Oliveira