I will never shot a photo again (Part I, Subjective description)

The day that tennis balls fell down from the skies

Children that were playing in the park looked at the sky that had just turned dark. They couldn´t identify the kind of cloud that had spoiled the day.  Some of the mothers standing there suspected that something was wrong and held their children in their arms. A single tennis ball bounced off the ground in the middle of the street. Its hallucinating effect shocked the drivers that stopped their cars to look at it.

Nobody could imagine that something that had never happened before, occurred now. Nobody would suspect that the sun will suddenly stop raising.


What was in the way was a green pistachio sort of catastrophe.

Catastrophes can  be yellow if they’re nuclear or infectious. Brown if they are genetic or cosmic ones. Black if they come from the night dark sky as a meteor, red if they are produced by the enormous faults on earth, spitting red rocks out of volcanoes craters. They’re blue when  they are related to the air, sea, hurricanes and typhoons. The white and freezing climatic catastrophes and the monsters born by the white that are impossible to mention.

The fear to the white. Moby Dick is a white sort of catastrophe, the kind of catastrophes that are accompanied by the well known and fearsome misfortune. White are also the biblical and scientific type of catastrophes, like the man that will be born and will destroy the humanity by accident. Violet catastrophes come from military invasions. Violet catastrophes come also from the sky that reflects the spaceships lights dwelling it and counting down just for fun while they stare at you all the way.

Dark green catastrophes must be dreaded, because it is the misfortune that each man bears on his shoulders. It is the law of nature. It is the stab behind the corner, the rabid dog in your way, or a bad fall on the wrong place.  The lack of water in the dessert or the lack of dry socks in a trench. The dark green catastrophe is fed by human arrogance and it sneaks crouching down in a dark corner and begins to devour you when you think you are sound and safe.

The catastrophe that occurred, was a green pistachio one. These catastrophes have to deal  with the mind. The day when tennis balls started to sprout out of ceilings and  skies, numb minds woke up.

Impossible had happened and even worse, it didn’t seem to

make any sense, have an explanation or meaning. These insignificant and materialist minds became aware of themselves, and became afraid of their own existence. They hated the fact of having been born. If impossible had happened just once, everything could be possible. Those fearing hell, saw it as something feasible, as well as those fearing death after life. Those being afraid of eternal life, eternal life became highly likely to them. But that was not the real pistachio green catastrophe.  Weak minds collapsed and left themselves to die. Those stronger men turned into inferior spirits, as weasels, integrating into the ecosystem. They survived thanks to annulling their personality and voiding any abstraction . They lost their capacity to talk.

The stronger ones stood up to the challenge and feared the fear. Just one of these super-men could strike hundreds of infra individuals from the previous age with simply a glance of  his look.

Finally, there were a few people that were not struck by the catastrophe at all. These shining beings already knew the challenge and their past life was full of premonitions about the possible and the impossible. These beings enjoyed the green rain. Furthermore, it was controlled and produced by them. These people were easy to recognize, as they almost seemed to shine. Their happy gestures distinguished them from the super-men that fought and beat the terror with a serious rictus. These men that learnt not to dread nothing but the fear itself, respected the powerful light men.

Planet Earth had to reorganize itself. The catastrophe wrecked every supply chain system. Big cities couldn´t survive on their own and only small villages were able to settle as nomadic proto-societies.

Nobody knew if tennis balls would come down from the skies again, but every single one feared the already spread on the face of the earth. Terror to green spheres, specially in the very first moments of uncertainty and panic, could be instantaneously mortal. It was in those particular circumstances where the great super-men began to forge their attitude.