Fleurs Et Flammes

When I was a child, on the day of a religious feast, early in the morning, I used to go to the market with my father to buy some flowers. After, at home, we cut the stems and we kept the flowers in a small room. Late in the afternoon, when the festive procession was in the street, we used to offer the flowers throwing them from the balconies. Late at night we used to wait for the final fireworks. After the feast, in my childhood dreams, flowers turned into flames and the pungent smell of fireworks was merged with the scent of flowers kept in the shade while the sun was burning outside.