If only we could slow-motion our life. Sometimes. In moments when the mountain road turns, for example, and you get a glimpse of the summit, and in that second you feel hope, reassured of the purpose of the journey. In moments, when you steal a quick smile amongst the crowd from a stranger, and feel like the universe just gave you a tap on the shoulder. In moments, when a dazed spring dragonfly gets lost into your windows before making a hectic noisy exit. In moments, when a ray of sunshine plays through a glass full with wine, making it alive, as if it was dancing liquid fireworks. In moments that you don’t even notice – a hand stretched to touch yours that never reached, because we all fear to be rejected. In moments that you more than notice – but what could be better than an embrace prolonged almost to eternity. And that ephemeral moment just before the first “I love you”, when the air is so charged that you know exactly what the near future holds, and all the futures that there are, in fact, – for having once let true love in, you keep a splinter of it in your heart, aching.