vacations are unfortunately over, but they were really fantastic. Compared to a year ago , was touched when I accompany my partner and his friend viveur mission in all wild party in progress between the tropics and Cortina, this year I could enjoy weeks of solitary peace home.
contacts with my partner I had lost, like almost all of the Italians, that cold December evening of the attack in Piazza Duomo. Domestic cats do not belong to timely updates on the health of other pets and so I was unaware of the conditions of the popes. TV on the other hand is not reassuring: for days there was no talk of nothing but hatred and violence, media terrorists and bombers television, most dangerous of people br. In other words: scoundrels balls that should die killed.
All these doomsday proclamations, despite being rated for the 'homo videns average, also came to affect me psychologically. Slowly I stopped to find the comic scene of the dove Tartaglia, with the vertical flight of the cathedral, which bypasses the Ambrosian bunch of eggheads of the escort to go to the large face of sanding I ask my partner. Brainwashing of the TV leads me to ask: what if you were really hurt? At stake was nothing less than the simple mind of my companion, my only through telepathy to access the internet.
Concern mounted over the endless hospital. I was afraid that the doctors of S. Raffaele Dent had taken the opportunity to replace the processor that helps my roommate for years in elementary and reasoning that recently denounced pathetic signs of obsolescence. My concern increased with the propagation of paraevangeliche attributed to my partner: I wondered if there was still my good old balio, with its sound down to the happy girls, his paranoia, existential, trichological the megalomania and the complex of the pump short. Or the ' upgrade its circuits had forever transformed into a digital placid gelding, better suited to the role of prime minister to My telepathic influences?
Three days ago, after his long pilgrimage from private clinics, Brianza villas, swimming pools and supermarkets in Costa Azzurra, the response I received at home and in person. I approached him cautiously, sniffing distance to find out if he was still the same as before. Riscontrai with relief that the days of hiding the smell of the hospital had given way to a more familiar stench inguinal feminine gender: the lecherous old man had used his convalescence to vent his instincts, long repressed for reasons of state. Papi therefore had not changed!
I, like others, I was perplexed by the complete absence of signs on his face. Not a scar, not a crust: latex farda of his face had miraculously reassembled, appearing possibly even smoother than before. In front of the miracle, someone made the sign of the cross, and another finger instinctively reached out to feel the sacred face, but he was petrified by the gaze of the mysterious owner. Yet another, known appustolato , grabbed the hem of military tunic that surrounds St. Papi week and called: "Heal me too little father." The good holy man instinctively let go of the railing a kick: "Little, who?". But now the love overcame him, and he stroked her face dell'insolente; pustules remained, however. Then the 'bard home attacked a paean of thanksgiving and all knelt.
The only one who stood far from the group without batting an eyelid was Telesina . He, the eminence grise, the sadistic mind of my poor puppet-simple, which includes the brain and provide neurons and has ramifications even in his clones scattered among the opponents, what we all knew he did not know?
In a moment I reached enlightenment in the form of trailer of an old B-movie . I remembered a detail of the first week, which then I had not paid attention to the strange habit of bipedal world: in the hours leading up to the cathedral, Telesina had consumed our hallway doing back and forth with a apron tied at the waist , while repeating the verses of famous Frost: "The woods are lovely, dark and deep ..." . Then a few minutes before the attack, called a guy who obviously had other things to do:
- "Hello ..."
- "..."
- "No, she does not know me, but this is not important: listen to me ..."
- "........"
- "But to have a moment of pazienza, lasci che le dica solo una cosa veloce..."
- "................"
- "Ma che m'importa se sta aspettando una ragazza! Senta, tanto vale che lo sappia subito: quella ragazza non arriverĂ mai!"
- "......................?"
- "Lo so e basta, lei pensi solo ad aprire le orecchie, che il comizio può finire da un momento all'altro: 'I boschi sono belli, scuri e profondi, ma io ho promesse da mantenere e miglia da percorrere prima di dormire' ..."
- "......................................."
- "No, no, chi ha detto di 'mantenere Emilia' , io ho detto 'promesse da mantenere e miglia da percorrere' ..."
- "............"
- "But nobody wants 'strike Emilia' ! I said, 'miles' !
- ".....?"
-" Miles, yes, miles! A mile, two miles ... It's just another way of saying kilometers "
- "........."
-" But with 'km' the trick does not work! Look, I know that she is mentally unstable, but at least makes a little effort! Now I repeat again, but it is good to hear: 'The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep. Miles to go before I sleep '.
- "........."
- "Hello, Hello?"
-
- "Well, hopefully it will be gone."
Telesina took off his apron and turned on the television. Half an hour after pictures of my bloody balio spreading throughout the world. Came the first shots of the offender, a guy looked totally hallucinated . Almost like someone had just heard declaiming Telesina Frost.
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