I received a mail from my friend today. He sent me somebody’s else memory he came across. It’s strange: imagine a postman delivering you a package you don’t expect, from somebody you’ve never met. Probably you’d hold it in your hands for a while, wandering what it could be. So I looked at the file in the attached. It was called “Perfect moment”. I tried to imagine what is it about. I thought about what my perfect moment could be. Then I opened it.
Perfect moment
Boris Kislitsin
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So, what was the perfect moment? Or is it a practical joke?
No, it was not a joke. It was rather a feeling I wanted to share. I think the moment of my reflection on the topic, perfect moment was more important for me; it’s like you longer to open your Xmas present or Pandora’s box. You don’t really know what’s inside, and you know that this moment of unknown before discovery could be one of these perfect moments too. Like a Schroedinger cat existing in 2 possibilities the same time. Where could be anything inside. I had even an idea to not open the attached for a while, actually. Sitting there and thinking about my perfect moments; and that perfect moments described are no longer perfect. And then, if you put it, it should be put as it is, without any additions on my part: it’s a PERFECT moment, and not even mine
Anyway, to satisfy your curiousity (in exchange for your post with your perfect moment): it was a story about one guy from Sierra Leone, his name is Alpha (nice one!), I do not remember the last name, and do not think it’s really that important. So he lived in Freetown, their capital, with his family: wife and kids, and established himself as a photographer. Then the war there broke up, and he got into trouble. He had to escape, as his life was in danger. So he hid somewhere, then took a boat away, went through a very perlious journey, as the boat nearly sunk in the ocean. Finally he arrived to another country, then another one somewhere in Europe, and finally settled down as a refugee in Cardiff, England. He lost everything: his family, home, everything what is important. He had a very hard time. 4 years passed since his escape. As he wanted to help other refugees, he started to work with them as a translator for the new refugees arriving.
Once he had a phone call from yet another refugee, asking him for help. When he started talking, he had a feeling he could recognize the voice. So he asked, do you know Alpha … (what was his name?), and the woman on the other side asked: but why, of course; it’s my dead husband. It happened that it was his wife with his kids he considered dead; they thought he was killed too. So he ran there she was at once and they finally met.
It was a perfect moment for him, and he wrote a short story about it, which was later filmed or published by BBC.