Swing Rossana back and forth, obediently following the hammock of prayer.
The small church overflowing, cars do not pass out almost. No one dares to go beyond the limit implicit progress. Thronged to the bottom and leave the empty nave as a sign of respect, distance, fear.
The rhythmic chant of the rosary hearts as a quiet evening morphine. Men's minds asleep, and accompanies the eyelids to deflate like a balloon naked towel.
not remember much that night Ross. He sat outside the church of San Galvin, with the fence behind her ass and ice cream on the stone steps of bare soil only at close range.
She had a couple of glasses at home, one after the other, seem to at least have the energy needed to meet arms around the others. But then we had made and had waited for the ringing of bells announced the beginning of the rosary. He carefully listened to the howling of dogs long irritated by the melody. Then she moved. Fell in the yard with a heavy head. The church reached staggering.
And had preferred not to enter.
The air is cold and sharp in March. Moves below the legacies of winter.
sleet and all around is filled with flakes of ice.
The stars of snow Ross calls. The perfect geometry of crystals. Water vapor thronged behind the germs. It forms a sculpture that stirs the thoughts of Plato, who sees all sides.
's called diamond dust on Wikipedia . But Ross is concerned is not always true, and asks the people to be sure. Misplaced confidence in common sense.
Coca has more or less the same magic, rare and revolutionary.
No common progress, no comfort. But it is beautiful, a Sunday, when you take your car and swim across the ring roads.
-What the fuck are you looking at? - Miranda's screams on the floor below the stairs and attacks with hairdryer. Ross did not respond. He does not want to be criticized by the noise, as always talking with her head tilted to the bathroom. Miranda insists. Detach and reattach the plug and demand. Reluctantly, Ross gets up from the couch, down the stairs and opens the refrigerator.
-Nothing. I watched one after the other Tg-He tells her shoulders looking for something to drink.
Ros-do not go out tonight? Do not you think it's time to move from someone, you see a little 'out?
-I do not give a shit.
-The people you are not visited at home by Ross, he's afraid of the pain of others - and attacks with hairdryer, damn.
-I'm fine by me, with nothing around-silenced by the noise, responding through gritted teeth and makes a generous splash of vodka with herbs. No one hears but her throat. His blood alcohol response to defibrillation.
-E do not complain later if you're alone and nobody comes to visit. Once I was in a church, a good part of the Church in this city of shit. It was a meeting place for young, full of people. Read parts of the Bible and then you say you do and how.
not listening Fucking Ross, a fuck.
-Miranda that all about?
-What was I saying?
Ross shakes his head and poured another glass of vodka.
-Della Chiesa. What I have to go out and knock door to door to people who know me and say "yes, I am, that my father died, that does nothing so that my mother had died and there are already over, you takes a little 'Then you leave it well, do not worry and yes of course, the recovery I left that tied the bike to the station not knowing that he would not return home alive this Thursday night - this time gripping the neck of the bottle and ends vodka was on the bottom.
Miranda smooth hair all straight and left them dry for a full minute. Meanwhile, talks and you do not understand anything.
Ross is lying on the ground near Miranda and down the naked body, soft and clear. In March, the whiteness becomes the disease, which fixes the peak of summer colors. The neon light in the bathroom does not make them justice. Ankles dead skin cells are gradually letting more light and fine. Blame the chlorine of the pool, Miranda goes there every day early in the morning, when the lanes are free and courses have not started yet. So disinfects from head to toe every day who decides to live. If you feel that it's worth, not rises, not eating, not swimming. Stay in bed all day, turn off the phone, does not warn anyone, and hangs off the plug without warning. Rossana caresses her ankle and kisses her toes.
Miranda smiles with eye bags in the eye and the red-faced to the upside. Then he makes a clumsy jump and bounce the nozzle of the hairdryer on the face of Ross that almost do not even feel.
-I said, I said Rossana here! That at one point the priest says something to the microphone. A fucking thing I remember to this day. That pure evil and suffering to someone is the greatest feeling alone. That man needs to hear, list, touch, speak, or at least appoint other men. That loneliness is worse than cancer. And you get sick by dint of being alone. Oh, and I agree you know? So it's' out, go find your brother as I know, take a walk by the parties the cobblestones.
-Come Miranda. Let's Make Love.
Ros-please, not the time. You smell of alcohol and do not you take a bath by the day. You promised me you would clean the common areas and you have SODDING. Let me finish the bathroom. I have to go to the theater with Clara. If you want to give yourself a system and is with us.
Ross turns away. He shakes his fists in the heat under the belly.
not spend five minutes that Miranda feels heavy breathing.
Ross does not believe in ghosts.
Nor that we are all equal.
Leaning against the pole to the bus stop down the her father's bike tied across the street. Miranda lives with a couple of months and want every day with the same force when it shared the same room. He wanted to tell his father to what was now full of her. And to what he felt sloppy and without any goal beyond her.
-Ross, when you are full of love for someone else is bright and helpful.
He had once told him, in front of a cigarette.
-I are off, burned with the death of your mother. I can not hear you. I'm empty, unable to accept other people's feelings because I have more than mine. I can not put myself in the shoes anyone.
Ross nodded. And he had embraced. At that moment she had longed to be burned and emptied to feel like him, able to understand and advise. But it was not, and had not wasted breath nor energy to look.
The bike does not seem to suffer the ravages of time and even if the wings for nearly one third is rusty, the handle and the luggage rack gleam in the sunlight, giving it a rare elegance. Ross now has the keys to open the lock and take her home. Do not know if his father has a duplicate somewhere and did not bother to look for the keys from their pockets on the day of the accident. There were no keys in the affections personal that had been returned. If you have lost in the subway, before the accident, it can not know.
No one seems to look after the bike over to her. He shrugs and decides to return home. He does not want to see anyone, not yet. You walk along Corso Cavour, holed up on the sidewalk of controviale. Avoid the downtown streets, the cobblestones, the pedestrian area. Do not turn on the phone for almost twelve days and people do not do is leave messages. Not a week passes without Miranda does not come back with some message for her. At work the two weeks granted to stop, to recover and get back in better shape than before. Miranda told her because she does not read even more the e-mail messages. The idea of \u200b\u200bhaving to reconnect to the shared world puts heavy and moody. Bold of unread sms of I called not interested at this time. Actually you do not feel less lonely than before. It just feels more clear, that yes. We are not all alike, is repeated. You feel alone otherwise. Those who more easily dig under the bark hard. She's got the loneliness living on the skin. Then, after a bit 'you get used to, does not feel anything anymore.
Daily Ross made a detour to the station. Check that the bicycle is in place, the seat cover if it rains. The talks, if it is one of those mornings when vodka has gone before. It seems if doing well, does not seem to do despite the throat anyone has repainted the fenders with a white enamel milk.
For some time people have stopped leaving messages. Miranda also has run an accomplice who may be fed up by dint of rolling between her and the rest of the world. Did, however, read aloud a letter that seemed to be important. The offices of Comec are a bit 'in trouble and must cut back on staff. Still be entitled to six months, as per contract. Then the relationship will be severed. Please, therefore, to present as soon as possible during office hours. Will be delivered the CUD and other documents within its jurisdiction.
-What about Ros? My diction is not by leaps and bounds?
Ross nods, perhaps lacking a bit 'strong voice, but seem to vowels and consonants.
-vocal setting is a problem my dear. I know, the entry must be stopped, statuary. Property out like the wings of a gull.
Miranda looks at her and re-read inflating his shoulders.
-Then relationships are severed. Please, therefore, to present as soon as possible during office hours. Will be delivered the CUD and other documents within its jurisdiction.
-Best. You can still exercise.
Ross gets up from the couch. Miranda kisses while focusing, the halyard back raises and tilts his chin to the sky, as if to help the voice to come out happy.
is Tuesday. Market day.
Today Miranda does not get up from bed. He decided that it is a day wasted and do not want anyone to throw open the shutters of the attic. Screams like a possessed when Ross move the tent and leans close to the glass to watch the weather.
-Damn close it. Just shut up, he says sleepily. Then she nestles under the armpit and Ross feels the heat and the breath of those who alternates unconscious wakefulness to deep sleep. -Stay in bed with me today Ros.
reflects Ross, has nothing to do. Only lift the seat cover to the bike, useless with the sun that saw the glass.
-Okay the whispers, I remain. But I need a drink, I have a dry mouth and a headache. Ross goes downstairs, pour one, two, three glasses of sparkling water. He bought Miranda to drink less. Bring the bottle over and leans close to the vodka that is on the table and helps sleep. Then he gets back under the sheets torn. Must be changed, he says to himself. He closes his eyes and hears Miranda stroke her belly.
is evening hours that are not moving there. The sun has had time to go to leave her alone to establish the post empty. I do not know what to do but wait. His father would have smoked a whole pack of Camels. And then he would go and buy another, pass the time and the cold. Moving, soul, and stretch my legs.
Rossana not smoke, not the vice that's right for you. We are not all equal. Everyone has a dress, a color, a defect which suits him more than others. The bicycle of his father is gone, the ground verdigris cut off the chain. A few butts, fossils of cement. Nothing more.
March threw out the cold at night that keeps hidden during the day.
Rossana fiddles with the key to the bike in the pocket of his blue coat.
it to him on his father's key. - Suppose I lose tonight good train and arrive late, do not want to leave the station, you know that here too steal the bikes.
Now that the bike is no more loneliness comes upon all at once. Sitting at the table with his jacket and looks at the key in his pocket Rossana Miranda while chewing the salad.
My father hath been thrown under the subway, there fell Miranda.
Miranda stares at all surprised. - What's new Rossana, they wrote all the papers -.
-I do not have no bed. I understand now.
Miranda peers in the silence. Then he gets up and hugs her.
The moment of Death is not the end of life but the beginning of not being. When Ross is sitting there inert in the hands of Miranda chokes and no longer knows who he is. If it is.
But she's confusion, pain or love.
not alone.
-We are not all equal, Miri.
The small church overflowing, cars do not pass out almost. No one dares to go beyond the limit implicit progress. Thronged to the bottom and leave the empty nave as a sign of respect, distance, fear.
The rhythmic chant of the rosary hearts as a quiet evening morphine. Men's minds asleep, and accompanies the eyelids to deflate like a balloon naked towel.
not remember much that night Ross. He sat outside the church of San Galvin, with the fence behind her ass and ice cream on the stone steps of bare soil only at close range.
She had a couple of glasses at home, one after the other, seem to at least have the energy needed to meet arms around the others. But then we had made and had waited for the ringing of bells announced the beginning of the rosary. He carefully listened to the howling of dogs long irritated by the melody. Then she moved. Fell in the yard with a heavy head. The church reached staggering.
And had preferred not to enter.
The air is cold and sharp in March. Moves below the legacies of winter.
sleet and all around is filled with flakes of ice.
The stars of snow Ross calls. The perfect geometry of crystals. Water vapor thronged behind the germs. It forms a sculpture that stirs the thoughts of Plato, who sees all sides.
's called diamond dust on Wikipedia . But Ross is concerned is not always true, and asks the people to be sure. Misplaced confidence in common sense.
Coca has more or less the same magic, rare and revolutionary.
No common progress, no comfort. But it is beautiful, a Sunday, when you take your car and swim across the ring roads.
-What the fuck are you looking at? - Miranda's screams on the floor below the stairs and attacks with hairdryer. Ross did not respond. He does not want to be criticized by the noise, as always talking with her head tilted to the bathroom. Miranda insists. Detach and reattach the plug and demand. Reluctantly, Ross gets up from the couch, down the stairs and opens the refrigerator.
-Nothing. I watched one after the other Tg-He tells her shoulders looking for something to drink.
Ros-do not go out tonight? Do not you think it's time to move from someone, you see a little 'out?
-I do not give a shit.
-The people you are not visited at home by Ross, he's afraid of the pain of others - and attacks with hairdryer, damn.
-I'm fine by me, with nothing around-silenced by the noise, responding through gritted teeth and makes a generous splash of vodka with herbs. No one hears but her throat. His blood alcohol response to defibrillation.
-E do not complain later if you're alone and nobody comes to visit. Once I was in a church, a good part of the Church in this city of shit. It was a meeting place for young, full of people. Read parts of the Bible and then you say you do and how.
not listening Fucking Ross, a fuck.
-Miranda that all about?
-What was I saying?
Ross shakes his head and poured another glass of vodka.
-Della Chiesa. What I have to go out and knock door to door to people who know me and say "yes, I am, that my father died, that does nothing so that my mother had died and there are already over, you takes a little 'Then you leave it well, do not worry and yes of course, the recovery I left that tied the bike to the station not knowing that he would not return home alive this Thursday night - this time gripping the neck of the bottle and ends vodka was on the bottom.
Miranda smooth hair all straight and left them dry for a full minute. Meanwhile, talks and you do not understand anything.
Ross is lying on the ground near Miranda and down the naked body, soft and clear. In March, the whiteness becomes the disease, which fixes the peak of summer colors. The neon light in the bathroom does not make them justice. Ankles dead skin cells are gradually letting more light and fine. Blame the chlorine of the pool, Miranda goes there every day early in the morning, when the lanes are free and courses have not started yet. So disinfects from head to toe every day who decides to live. If you feel that it's worth, not rises, not eating, not swimming. Stay in bed all day, turn off the phone, does not warn anyone, and hangs off the plug without warning. Rossana caresses her ankle and kisses her toes.
Miranda smiles with eye bags in the eye and the red-faced to the upside. Then he makes a clumsy jump and bounce the nozzle of the hairdryer on the face of Ross that almost do not even feel.
-I said, I said Rossana here! That at one point the priest says something to the microphone. A fucking thing I remember to this day. That pure evil and suffering to someone is the greatest feeling alone. That man needs to hear, list, touch, speak, or at least appoint other men. That loneliness is worse than cancer. And you get sick by dint of being alone. Oh, and I agree you know? So it's' out, go find your brother as I know, take a walk by the parties the cobblestones.
-Come Miranda. Let's Make Love.
Ros-please, not the time. You smell of alcohol and do not you take a bath by the day. You promised me you would clean the common areas and you have SODDING. Let me finish the bathroom. I have to go to the theater with Clara. If you want to give yourself a system and is with us.
Ross turns away. He shakes his fists in the heat under the belly.
not spend five minutes that Miranda feels heavy breathing.
Ross does not believe in ghosts.
Nor that we are all equal.
Leaning against the pole to the bus stop down the her father's bike tied across the street. Miranda lives with a couple of months and want every day with the same force when it shared the same room. He wanted to tell his father to what was now full of her. And to what he felt sloppy and without any goal beyond her.
-Ross, when you are full of love for someone else is bright and helpful.
He had once told him, in front of a cigarette.
-I are off, burned with the death of your mother. I can not hear you. I'm empty, unable to accept other people's feelings because I have more than mine. I can not put myself in the shoes anyone.
Ross nodded. And he had embraced. At that moment she had longed to be burned and emptied to feel like him, able to understand and advise. But it was not, and had not wasted breath nor energy to look.
The bike does not seem to suffer the ravages of time and even if the wings for nearly one third is rusty, the handle and the luggage rack gleam in the sunlight, giving it a rare elegance. Ross now has the keys to open the lock and take her home. Do not know if his father has a duplicate somewhere and did not bother to look for the keys from their pockets on the day of the accident. There were no keys in the affections personal that had been returned. If you have lost in the subway, before the accident, it can not know.
No one seems to look after the bike over to her. He shrugs and decides to return home. He does not want to see anyone, not yet. You walk along Corso Cavour, holed up on the sidewalk of controviale. Avoid the downtown streets, the cobblestones, the pedestrian area. Do not turn on the phone for almost twelve days and people do not do is leave messages. Not a week passes without Miranda does not come back with some message for her. At work the two weeks granted to stop, to recover and get back in better shape than before. Miranda told her because she does not read even more the e-mail messages. The idea of \u200b\u200bhaving to reconnect to the shared world puts heavy and moody. Bold of unread sms of I called not interested at this time. Actually you do not feel less lonely than before. It just feels more clear, that yes. We are not all alike, is repeated. You feel alone otherwise. Those who more easily dig under the bark hard. She's got the loneliness living on the skin. Then, after a bit 'you get used to, does not feel anything anymore.
Daily Ross made a detour to the station. Check that the bicycle is in place, the seat cover if it rains. The talks, if it is one of those mornings when vodka has gone before. It seems if doing well, does not seem to do despite the throat anyone has repainted the fenders with a white enamel milk.
For some time people have stopped leaving messages. Miranda also has run an accomplice who may be fed up by dint of rolling between her and the rest of the world. Did, however, read aloud a letter that seemed to be important. The offices of Comec are a bit 'in trouble and must cut back on staff. Still be entitled to six months, as per contract. Then the relationship will be severed. Please, therefore, to present as soon as possible during office hours. Will be delivered the CUD and other documents within its jurisdiction.
-What about Ros? My diction is not by leaps and bounds?
Ross nods, perhaps lacking a bit 'strong voice, but seem to vowels and consonants.
-vocal setting is a problem my dear. I know, the entry must be stopped, statuary. Property out like the wings of a gull.
Miranda looks at her and re-read inflating his shoulders.
-Then relationships are severed. Please, therefore, to present as soon as possible during office hours. Will be delivered the CUD and other documents within its jurisdiction.
-Best. You can still exercise.
Ross gets up from the couch. Miranda kisses while focusing, the halyard back raises and tilts his chin to the sky, as if to help the voice to come out happy.
is Tuesday. Market day.
Today Miranda does not get up from bed. He decided that it is a day wasted and do not want anyone to throw open the shutters of the attic. Screams like a possessed when Ross move the tent and leans close to the glass to watch the weather.
-Damn close it. Just shut up, he says sleepily. Then she nestles under the armpit and Ross feels the heat and the breath of those who alternates unconscious wakefulness to deep sleep. -Stay in bed with me today Ros.
reflects Ross, has nothing to do. Only lift the seat cover to the bike, useless with the sun that saw the glass.
-Okay the whispers, I remain. But I need a drink, I have a dry mouth and a headache. Ross goes downstairs, pour one, two, three glasses of sparkling water. He bought Miranda to drink less. Bring the bottle over and leans close to the vodka that is on the table and helps sleep. Then he gets back under the sheets torn. Must be changed, he says to himself. He closes his eyes and hears Miranda stroke her belly.
is evening hours that are not moving there. The sun has had time to go to leave her alone to establish the post empty. I do not know what to do but wait. His father would have smoked a whole pack of Camels. And then he would go and buy another, pass the time and the cold. Moving, soul, and stretch my legs.
Rossana not smoke, not the vice that's right for you. We are not all equal. Everyone has a dress, a color, a defect which suits him more than others. The bicycle of his father is gone, the ground verdigris cut off the chain. A few butts, fossils of cement. Nothing more.
March threw out the cold at night that keeps hidden during the day.
Rossana fiddles with the key to the bike in the pocket of his blue coat.
it to him on his father's key. - Suppose I lose tonight good train and arrive late, do not want to leave the station, you know that here too steal the bikes.
Now that the bike is no more loneliness comes upon all at once. Sitting at the table with his jacket and looks at the key in his pocket Rossana Miranda while chewing the salad.
My father hath been thrown under the subway, there fell Miranda.
Miranda stares at all surprised. - What's new Rossana, they wrote all the papers -.
-I do not have no bed. I understand now.
Miranda peers in the silence. Then he gets up and hugs her.
The moment of Death is not the end of life but the beginning of not being. When Ross is sitting there inert in the hands of Miranda chokes and no longer knows who he is. If it is.
But she's confusion, pain or love.
not alone.
-We are not all equal, Miri.
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