Isadora Otero

OOAK pullip doll by Rebeca Cano "Cookie dolls"

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I look at my hands, and they are empty and full of hope, look at my palms, and the lines interbreed, Will the fate exist? Which will be mine?

Every day I despair more, since my dream seems not to be written in the lines of my hand. My restless feet and my heart tell me otherwise, I feel the music in my soul, she overwhelms everything again and I start to dance, I look at my fingers as they play with the light coming into my little room, and I think, and for a moment I believe that I will reach the light.

The leaden sky, incites me to go out, for to clear my senses with the freshness of the gentle and mild drops.

Walk aimlessly, without noticing what is around me, moving my feet slight, almost dancing.

  The droplets give way to a torrential downpour - I don´t recognize this place!, Do I seek refuge? I don´t know where to search! - And again a beam of light, I perceive and raise the look, contemplate a golden door with a large reception, (will it be my heaven?). Driven by my feet, I walk resolved, then, at that time that's when everything changes.

Confusions, they look at me, they look at themselves, and without barely realizing it, I'm in a beautiful room.

Surrounded by so many lovely things, only one, in this precise instant seems to get my attention. A great wardrobe trunk.

I brushed it with my fingers, and for a moment I believe perceiving something, a electrifying sensation, a slight tremor and I open it.

Inside, there inside, I find a world of dreams, my world, made to my measure, the dance, at last the dance, Is this for me?

Letters knotted with purple and blue ribbons, full of essences to roses and violets. I go into your world, You have made it mine.

The luck.

Impossible, only the fate, each of your words, they make me to understand, I embrace them, I sense them as mine.

You have overwhelmed me, with your universe.

Living the fate.