I appeared suddenly, unexpected, while minor thoughts such as uranium and cheerful as a chorus of mourners, I whirled in his head, like a troublesome wind, with persistence of the parasite.
Me I found the front while I concentrated on the idea that even the most fortuitous event, including acts of God, would allow me to meet a schoolmate, a rejected lover, the butcher Othello , just to name a few. Would allow me to meet my mother. Here, spit it out. Nothing porches, no friendly faces, but nothing especially mom.
Mom, I miss you (but pentothal to withstand a long time since I do not want to admit)
bad for me, I'd willed myself. I bet his feet, fighting and then implored. I screamed and put the muzzle, desperate and hostile, stubborn, inflexible. And now, after all that busy, having won here I am convinced, and even Othello regret the grocer, which, moreover I had never liked for rosacea by excess alcohol and the Intolerable habit of licking his fingers to easily take sheets of paper oil, which then put the ham.
Who is the cause of his ill ... Yes just like that: no matter how I tried I could not find even the shadow of a scapegoat. Obstinate, stubborn, but honest enough not to pull out of absent fathers and difficult childhoods. I'd wanted me, I personally, no I lived there had moved, no one had encouraged me. Indeed the world (mine) had tried to dissuade me. Idiot. Idiot. Besides, I had to buy bread and detergent and, already, a bowl (there was a time not long ago, where no I knew that even existed). In the pocket of the overalls rustled ten thousand lire: there something else I could do. There would be just right out a few T-shirts (maybe Fiorucci) and down another Magone (which size I should take now? Certainly not the first of small, shame on me).
The sight of them I looked away for a moment with anxiety for my fate (of which I was sole author, but this is just to improve my mood).
were many, were beautiful, were women. They walked arm in arm, side by side. I stood on the sidewalk looking at them. One of them beckoned me with his hand. Come, come by too. I went to her, I made room, welcomed me, loving mother. The others smiled at me. One of them, Marina, gave me a sprig of mimosa.
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Sei of qui?>>
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Now, yes, but we just live ... I moved to my married ... ummm .. achh seas .. I still can not say, in short he is to be here ...>>
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;And di', know cos'รจ?>>
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;And di', know cos'รจ?>>
\u0026lt;'No not sicuro>>
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;one bambina, vedrai!>>
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Yes, I feel, but I have told not to trust ...>>
\u0026lt;\u0026lt;Trust me however, it seems to us too. And so now we go: two more, that beauty ...>>.
And that was the first parade he attended Daughter. It was March 8, 1980: was born exactly five months and two days later.
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