says compartment a lot of things while I listened to them. said they were great and they know better. claimed to know the meaning of the word life . said to be ancestral shamans able to heal the wounds of being there every day here. items of little interest I licked her cheeks, drag entries from burning like the fires of hell, ready to incinerate every single act of rebellion. my expression dazed, vacant stare them nervous to the point of transforming their mouths in volcanic craters and their virulent slime in lava. really saying much, but it was important to listen. already had an audience with the faithful and devoted audience, I was just too much, immmobile among others.
sit quietly in a late-summer day, breathing in the first fragrances of autumn. maybe it's just imagination, perhaps only due to plagiarism first premature yellow leaves. as I observe the doodles that the gray smoke of the cigarette draws in the air, I note that the ivy clinging to the fence in the bottom of the avenue has already donned her best dress amber, known irritated skin from the cold morning, I notice the long shadows waiting and dreaming to shorten with the passage of time . I feel each marked by ticking clock hanging on the white wall of the kitchen. Vacation fleeing feel rushed, and without healthy, slip away to get lost somewhere I do not know yet. I feel the life that screams its warning: violent claim the lost nell'abbronzatura routine and evenings spent in revelry. pleasant noises in the distance, children lost in their fantasies of children in a fist fight at the park while chatting mothers distracted of gossiping about this and that.
now is the time of the applause. I get up and approach the exit before that chaotic consensus that kills POC is left alive inside me. turned their backs to the audience delirious, the steps fast becoming a mad rush to the doors: armored. I beat my fists against the solid wood to exhaustion, dull thuds that no one hears. seems like all the good manners to wait for the end of show and give compliments to the performers on pacoscenico, hot for performance , but I have been dragged unwillingly and the thing I find difficult. anyone know my disapproval, blame me with eyes full of barely concealed disapproval.
hear birds chirping but I see them fly in the afternoon sky, dressed up with some ominous cloud. disappointed, I console myself with an apple too much flour to be appreciated. dinner and my stomach falls demands attention. while I take off the peel potatoes with a sharp knife, like the old days, I feel a strong smell of earth. the soil fresh and genuine rejoicing fills my nostrils for a moment only boring stretch of time that lies between the afternoon and evening.
a memory. Today I put aside memories of late summer, while their mothers chatted and the kids dreamed of making the pirates or astronauts or explorers, and nature was intent on changing clothes for the big prom season and the hands of 'clock is running about playing hide and seek.
