Michelle still on the table. Dry eyes. Still feeling to have his hands on him, the desire without having to rebel against the minimum force, the sense of revulsion and the desire to be like that before, like when Mark did not consider only a body and that's it, like when I became a precipice sweet. Michelle
remained there, at the ceiling. Suddenly the cat purred. He turned to look at him, balancing the extreme limit of the couch. He realized that he was cold and he realized that he wanted his life back. Why that was not his life.
"For how long? As I go on like this? ... Could be another of my nightmares too, indeed must be if I wake up ... and it's all over. Marco will be the same as before, I'll be the same as before. "But he did not believe, it was clear that he did not believe. Only then slowly slid a tear. And he felt angry, angry with herself, terribly.
"What are you going to do now? Stay here forever?" It makes no sense ... Marco ... Marco does not exist, never existed ... and should not come back ... can not ... not must ... " Lens
one two three tears. The teddy
Gaia. Where it left off? Gaia was like?
"But it is absurd that you think of her now, right now. Want to escape once again to your problems. What are you doing? Pretend to have a force so great that well enough for others? The force that does not have a curse ... ... where your strength is over? " Where
. Where. Where.
He rose at last. He needed a shirt, something. He went to bathe his face. Cold water on his face burning. A two or three times. Then his face in the mirror, lost ... The large dark eyes lost. Tenderness itself.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
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Michelle was not expecting. They see it 'with the usual expression on the face dismissal' back into the past and was an 'indescribable emotion. - What are you doing here? - Churches. And his hands were trembling, the same hands clutching a teddy bear of Gaia. - I can not stay there without you - Only this. Then Mark Down 'head. Michelle did not understand that meeting. They were to avoid of being: these were the agreements. But Mo was there '. And that answer then, that meant? The echo of his words was a torment absurd. History closed? but what? She felt burning inside at the thought of him, the idea of all their past, the idea of love that had united them. It was not what had been a dream. It was truth, 'reality' hot, as that object which is still holding, without being almost more 'knowledge. And for a moment the image of Gaia the back 'before his eyes, detaching it from Mark. It was only a moment. Then come 'to him. What were they, those who felt tears slide slowly on your face? Tears, tears, tears. But why '? - I do not understand - just said - even I understand. And they do not I know 'cause I came. Only the altrogiorno I saw the house. You too. 'Cause you're coming? Marco step 'a hand nervously through his hair. Michelle did not answer. - I can not, really. I miss you. But it 's strange. Why 'must not love, no more' I do not think at least ... Michelle felt 'hurt at once. Indeed, they were old wounds will be reopened. And she was too tired. The desire that he sometimes felt, yet powerfully, that was it? Love was that name again or if not him? habits, habits ... The head was spinning. It was falling. It was the perception of a moment, but the leaders'. Falling, like drowning. And the crowd of quarrels with him that looked in his head.
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At that moment the cat was on the couch. Dozing.
At that very moment Mark began to jump into the room, it seemed crazy. A strange whistling between his legs and jumped to Michelle. Held her tight.
At that moment, Michelle, numb, staring at the chandelier dangling between the gusts of wind.
At that moment, the overwhelming voice of Mark, Michelle raped her ears, a particular combination of words: "That 's what I missed."
At that moment, a series of small bites and kisses Michelle took possession of the legs.
was un'entusiamante theatrical farce. Everything is remodeled and crashed in short sighs. The theatricality of desire is transformed into an emphasis of pure passion.
Michelle did not want to hear those words, a nauseous stomach, the clearing of his throat. Cadde a terra. He fell on a carpet, and Marco always clinging to his legs.
"I can not lie ... do not know how I missed those legs" - a mild stroke on right calf - "these knees" - a short blessing with moist lips - "that smell" - and the hand that shook ever strong.
happened - at that moment - that Mark with the usual feline leap, brought her face to the front of Michelle. Numb, empty, completely helpless on that rug, staring at the white ceiling, a blank look waiting for the right vibration.
A sharp, and tore the shirt of Michelle. The bare breasts. Blank stare. Marco's voice grew more hushed, more and more chilling.
"You wanted to know why I came here in your house?" - Michelle seemed indifferent - 'E' for this! " - The right hand on the bare breasts - "I'm sick of your idealistic speeches about love, about your fears and your phobias, only that I missed you!"
happened - at that moment - all so suddenly. Marco got up and left the room, give birth without a word, just one look in the eyes of Michelle.
He stood on the carpet. The cat tangled on the couch. Marco coming out from the palace greeted the doorman and his wife.
And at that precise moment, a whisper, he drew in the wind: "Marco"
Monday, July 25, 2005
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heavy air - Mark hovering over the bodies of beautiful young girls from the milky white skin - Michelle felt the pain of Gaia through the teddy bear.
The wife of the caretaker watched diprezzo the pink dressing gown, still caught on the hook in the wall of the building, "Please, lever that rag!" Fausto said, pointing to her robe.
The son carried out the order very quickly, and saw that there was something in a pocket of the garment. The curiosity was so strong that Fausto stuck his hand in his pocket. He felt a couple of times without removing the mysterious object, "seems like a book ... maybe a notebook," he thought. While approaching the wife of the porter, or his mother, took strong the book and put it in the pocket of his sweatshirt ... was a quick, instant ... the mother or the wife of the caretaker, was too busy to discuss the attempted suicide because of this new with the old maid, to capture the furtive movement of the child.
"Bravo, give me this crap! Who knows what disease brings with it!" he shouted, without a minimum of respect for the present, the woman known by all as the wife of the caretaker. Fausto walked away without saying anything to anyone, in total indifference.
Michelle was returning home, his heart tied with a string of sadness - the teddy bear always in hand - Marco sat on the stairs of a building, waiting for - the ants in column thought to their work - the frantic maid breathed her fan - the wife of the lawyer was having a sexual relationship with the lawyer - Mark heard all the noise - not lost one - a symphony of sound enveloped the entire hall - a hiccups and a crunch - a start and a yawn - one step after another - Fausto, sitting on a bench and began to leaf through the diary of Gaia - a ray of light in the darkness. Michelle gave
not even look at the building, pulled straight, I would just lie on the bed in the company of Toph. He climbed the stairs slowly, fatigue began to take over her frail body, when suddenly a voice crept into his ears: "Hello, I was waiting for. "It was Marco.
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When Michelle went on the ambulance had already 'gone and people were clearing the road. Falling must have hit my head' cause he felt excruciating pain. For a moment I think 'to sleep and that this was one of his nightmares, then he came and I think 'to Gaia. he did not know Gaia, Gaia he knew nothing except that he had launched into space, Gaia that people spoke ill, the Gaia gave only a tremendous feeling of fragility. 'A little girl almost, yes, a little girl. You remember' I saw it the first time the day of the move. Very small square in his face in the window ... so those eyes' sad. .. You remember 'who saw something fall off the robe. What? but it was true? or was it a dream too? I leave 'Emilia's letter in the book and went' out. Seeking 'a bit' and then he saw: the teddy bear, frightened in the grass with a thick bush. Picked it up with unexpected tenderness. He made her think of his childhood. Gaia Gaia Gaia. He did not know what was going on. Now it was overpowering the thought of the little known even one without his teddy bear in a dingy hospital room. If he was still alive ... I think '. Decided. He went looking for her.
Fifteen minutes later he was in hospital. Crowd of white coats who could not say anything. And she felt fluttering in all that white. Corridors behind corridors without end. Gaia, Gaia was looking for ... brought her here this morning ... please. E Meanwhile, the bear was burning between his fingers. It 's a relative? No, but ... We could not find anyone. But it 's alive? and 'still alive? The young doctor per year 'silently with only a gesture of the head, then motioned her to follow him. And then again on corridors with a heart that was a drum and Michelle asks you if the young doctor felt it. At the bottom of glass. Behind the small body of Gaia.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
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He wrote two lines in the diary, a few confused words: "A new day is about to begin, do not see him finish." He walked to the window with her robe open in front. She did not care anymore. His blue eyes noticed a light from a window of the building opposite. Thin shadow. He felt watched. "It takes only courage "comic whispered to herself," It takes a delicate moment of lucidity. "He put the diary in the right pocket of her dressing gown and a small teddy bear in the left. A deep breath. A smile. A slow heartbeat.
The building had noticed everything, and when that girl with a cat leap she jumped from the window, the building with a flash, grabbed her by her robe.
fell naked body on the tarmac, still alive .. . terrifying few minutes of silence. He felt a thousand hands, a thousand voices and a thousand arms over her naked body. It was not the paradise it was still hell.
Michelle noticed every detail: the robe caught on that hook sticking out from the wall of building, the body of the girl completely naked and completely motionless on the sidewalk, that strange object fell in the border near the main entrance. "It must be out of the robe," he thought. While the ambulance
receding with Gaia, the building burst into a fat laugh. A laugh that made faint Michelle.
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dawn. Gaia had seen the sun just popped. Then nothing. The people ... people ... the alley full of people ... He spoke, he thought, assumed, accused. Emptiness. Michelle froze the window, the letter that was burning between his fingers, his head that was spinning. It was too much.
What was happening? What did that house? Home ... Home ... The building in front again resigned from looking at the body on the street and small crowds of people. Nothing. Just everyday life '. Then the police, then the ambulance ...
It 's not dead!
How 'possible?
Now, come on ... But
and 'absurd ...
From that height can not ... '
be a witch, a witch, yes, have to be a witch to survive the jump ...
Michelle could not believe it. He stared, eyes wide. The letter slid from his fingers. Gaia was not dead. But he did not know if it was good. A silhouette of a man looking through a window in front.
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Here's the phone rings ... damn ... I do not want to answer .. . Who is it? but who cares ... and if Michelle? ... no she can not we be left without a farewell, we left in a drop of hate ... insists the phone to the devil ... behold, now is unplug the phone ... done ... that peace ... but why am I missing? ... I can not stand that spoiled child ... There are the dishes laid his his glasses ... I break them one by one ... Should I use the pieces to finally bury him ... but because I followed? ... and if I had seen ...? which coward I am! ... am a shame ... will be better to drink something strong ... now preparing for something ... here there is still a lemon ... Michelle's favorite ... damn girl ... I hate you ... had to die ... Why did not I killed? ... I would arrested ... a murderess ... but at least I was not in this state ... convicted but not humiliated ... how I miss her embrace ... how I miss her warmth in bed ... I would like to kill ... how I suffer ... but why? ... I can not explain my pain ... because she came here this afternoon? ... I want to see dead? ... and why looking at my apartment ...? What do you want more? ... I want to sleep, I lay in bed, perhaps tomorrow will all ... how I miss your breath ... his hair, his laugh and his voice ... she is suffering because of my ... always has been ... the first day I saw ... a devil ... and if I were the devil ...? and if she was an angel ...? can not be an angel does not exist pain like this ... where's the remote? ... there is nothing important on television ... the usual shit ... I want to sleep ... I want to die ... not even want to go out ... I wander in the night ... I want to drown the pain ... but that pain !!!... I do not suffer ... a hot breast on which to place the face ... Good night Michelle.
the television on without sound, one breath, that of Mark.
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sleepless night, this time to slowly go over each syllable of the letter. No nightmares this time, at least for one night. There were a few sheets. A history of writing nervosa.Il Emilia looked confused in the life of Michelle hearing and asked almost in despair. Fausto still looking at his profile window but she did not know. Marco back into his shell, again in the house who knew her terribly, even though they are not to love her more '. And she had not seen him. Gaia
to that window, waiting for the sunrise, 'cause the dawn was the beginning of everything, the end of anything.
The building looked 'all those lives entwined in Vico Love. There was a sense. None. Leaves scattered on the floor, a sensation of fever, a hot desire to safety. The tears that had paid for herself, for Emilia. And that letter was for those who would find her. Written for and never sent someone important, forgotten in that old book and perhaps re-read every now and then, in the vacuum of the vacuum. Why 'Emilia had not sent that letter? 'cause he had left them' in that book to be dust? They were questions that Michelle was, but knew he did not even have an answer. Yet that address marked on the envelope stung somewhere. Who was the recipient of that letter? The letter that was in his heart, as if it were part of the will, indeed, the most 'important. And then he had to seek to understand.
caress' Toph slowly. It was then, and it was a moment: the new nightmare, but in a real nightmare. It was almost dawn and Gaia had seen her. Michelle felt 'miss.
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Tents that float on a breeze - Cigarette smoke - Gaia lying on the bed while she was writing a diary - knives on the kitchen table - letter in trembling hands - blue eyes - a quick pace - who climb stairs on a cloud of polystyrene - cloud of smoke on the naked body lying on the bed of Gaia - a shadow of a man on the threshold of the room - apart dummy on the floor - glass of beer and a couple of syringes on the table - "What the hell happened?" - "Nothing 's all right, I am I! Open me!" - Michelle reads the letter under a dim light - hand on heart - shudder - a caress for the soul - a snap of the head and the look of the building - out the window - Darkness - the creaking front door of the building - the latest sign of life of a lamp post - Gaia in her dressing gown that opens the door - lies on the bed - waiting for the multitude - A tear from her face Michelle - Wet letter - nightmares that are thrown from a window - Fausto fixing the window of the room Michelle - Michelle fixing the window in the room of Mr. Marcheli - Gaia expects that the crowd and set the eyes of Mr Marcheli - Marco pushed the curtain that floats on a breeze and think of Michelle.
The night covered the whole ... every moment and every movement ... Mark had noticed in the afternoon Michelle linger outside his window, he wanted to call it, but he did not. He left the house and followed her. It is not pointed out. He followed her to their new home in vico love. "What a funny name for this way" he thought. He stood watching the street for a couple of minutes, then let it grow old behind him. On the way back I kept thinking of Michelle. Did not love her anymore, but it was still attracted to, he could not understand why.
The night covered the whole ... even the thoughts of Mark, motionless at the window with the curtain that floats on a breeze.
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did not know why 'but fixed to the front window of the house where he lived with Marco earned a vague sense of calm'. The past life. Cosi 'so sweet' caressingly pleasant. 'Cause it did not work? He did not know to tell the truth if not the most loved 'Marco. Not even know why 'had come under the window to breathe the air pienai lungs with a desire for freedom' that is not well understood. Of course: the nightmares ... the cage of the new district ... rumors of the people ... fear ... But she was sun was usually cheerful. What was happening? I think 'that was the fault of Mark. But it was too easy to blame him. I think 'getting to him. One moment, a moment. But he had promised that he would not and should not.
I'll be back 'home wearily, already' presaging the nightmares that lay ahead that night. It was better not to sleep, no. China in old books that had left the house with Emily, while Toph is rubbing against her knees, I think 'and I', a quantity 'of stuff. Then jump out of a book 'out a letter, a wrinkled old letter. He took her hands thoroughly. It was a piece of the past life of Emily quello.Che strange feeling! as a discovery that would change his life.
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"That donnucola greasy and impertinent." So it was known Emila. Greasy and saucy. Former Italian teacher and lover of cats and flowers. And the housemates had a greasy and saucy. But it greasy? Naughty But why?. The gossips have long tentacles and spray decisions in every corner of the world.
had six cats at home. One for each room. She had only a bed, a kitchen and a bathroom. The rest was all for the cats. Trattrava them as if they were his children. She had only cats, and cats had only her.
The Life of Emily, was a life of solitude in the crucible. Seduced by a teenager milititare cadet body, the victim of rape un'agressione with thirty years - which lost the ability to have children - and, finally, shut up in the chairs of a high school where his field was derided by pupils and vomited surface. These were the crucial points that marked the fire in the heart of Emilia. He did not believe in men, believed only in flowers and cats.
But for the neighbors, her, Emilia, was greasy and saucy. Greasy, they may not understand how anyone could live in an apartment with six cats, including urine and feces, hair and between different feed, did not see her ever clean his apartment and had always the same clothes. Also doubt that you wash.
impertinent, because they was the opposite, with all his might, in a communal council, the sterilization of all cats in the neighborhood and the technical inspection of his apartment - too many strange noises came from the rooms of Emilia, strange noises that did not end with his death and even with the total displacement of the cats (wanted by the perfidious maid).
sad faces on the day of his death, while the hearts jumped into a pot of revelry.
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The streets flooded with sun nonstante cold. Michelle walked on the sidewalks aimlessly. Go: This only wanted, only this was true. He could take a ride in his old neighborhood, but did not know if that was the case. Li 'had left a large piece of the past, hovering between but forse.Lontano from Mark. Why 'coexistence was not the right choice for them both,' cause maybe few decades, 'cause Mark was no longer' in his life. The nightmares had a relationship with him? maybe, but could not swear.
The new house was not so 'new to tell the truth. Had belonged to an old lady a bit 'strange. Emilia was called. Emilia Emilia white hair and she loved cats. A little 'as you. Who loved cats, not with white hair. I had met in a pet store one day and then not even remember how he had started her company in a while. It was so lonely. Drowning in memories. A little 'as you at the time really. In addition to nightmares, of course. Emilia and its objects curious. Antiques and more. Emilia that one day she fell asleep and woke up more ': alone. And he left a legacy 'that house in Vico Love. Not bad to be honest. Although people kept saying, people in the building say that there were ghosts there 'inside and from there were strange noises' ... and everything else. She did not care. It was a beautiful house, '... If it were not for the nightmares.
Face 'on the corner and found himself' in front of his old house. Almost without realizing it. Mark was at home, perhaps, but it did not matter.
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Mr. Mario is known to all as Mr. Mario, or the caretaker of the building called Villa Cairoli, a nice block: six-story apartments and eighteen. Unlike many of his colleagues is not a meddler, certainly knows all the vices and virtues of the tenants of the building, but not going to blurt out all the learner. The opposite side and his wife, also known as the wife of the caretaker; eats only talk and gossip. And that day, to chat and gossip, you could do indigestion.
Fausto, however, is the son of Mr. Mario. A guy like many, normal, and therefore irrelevant. Nineteen years old, muscular and robust, a graduate in a vocational school, fun-loving wild and pathetic. A drop in the ocean. Mr. Mario
gioronzolava close to his box as he watched, without a hint of melancholy, his family: his wife, who spoke with the wife of the lawyer, and his son, who cleaned the square of paper and dry leaves. Suddenly he was attacked by the smile of a sunny-haired girl blacks, and Mr. Mario replied with a friendly gesture of the head. At that moment the porter's wife whispered to the wife of the lawyer: "And '... the new tenant came about a week ago." The girl jumped in Vico Love and walked away from the square. Fausto At that moment, his gaze fixed on the lower back, said: "Dearest!"
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The building was the mystery. Or maybe not: it was the people who lived there who was the mystery. Or rather, no: the real mystery was the nightmares of Michelle, gathered in crowds, marching armies around his head, every night, more and more '. It was shock. A nothing worth repeating that he was behaving irrationally, nothing in the continuing efforts to snatch a moment of tranquility to the nights'. It seemed that the dreams were becoming more and more 'real, more and more' bulky ... They would have swallowed? The cat rubbed against her legs ... the slight scent of violets on the windowsill ... noises in the street ... machines ... the piece of blatantly clear sky ... Reality '... life. It was not so 'as bad as in his dreams, even had to admit that it could be much more' beautiful, but it was not for Toph, the small soft tophi, which ended with the human consciousness with comfort when she woke in the night terrified. Mewing. Almost an intuition of his thoughts. He smiled despite himself.
He approached the window. Anxiety devoured her. What had happened that night was a sort of overflow of the dream into reality '. Also for this reason it was so 'scared. She had dreamed of her fall from a window, feeling the void, to see the track more and more 'close up to schiantarcisi. Then it was weird 'cause it was seen, on the floor, poor thing without' life. Just a dream, of course. A bad dream. But the man that night ... 'cause? He thought the chatter of women on the landing of the building, people who lived there. Mr. Marcheli. Who was Mr. Marcheli? returned later, they said. He was the man with the cigarette, then. It had to be him. But then, how he could be there 'to watch the tragedy of the night simply by lighting a cigarette, as it was more' natural world? and you? her 'cause she thought about now? He had to quit, quit, quit. And stop thinking. Enough, she told herself.
Saturday, July 23, 2005
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Nestled at the foot of the door with the cat in her arms. A stroke after another. The night was dissolved with all the nightmares, but a state of anguish still lingers in the air. A stroke after the other and more nestled at the foot of the door of his apartment. Tremors continue. Sighs. Items that tangling. Michelle curled. Imagined and realized. Each entry had its mistress. Gossip mezzecalzette virulent depressed insignificant donnucole from peanuts. Michelle knew exactly who were the families who lived in the block, knew who they were women who strutted on that landing sparkling: he had noticed on his arrival: about a week ago. As he listened to the voices, imagined those women one by one: his wife of goalkeeper, legs still wide and his mouth always open, the wife of the lawyer, petite, short hair and a snake language, the baker's wife, always sweaty and fat , the spinster, the worst of all, with his fan always frenetic movement.
"Oh, I think that whole building is possessed"
"A tragedy waiting to happen ... it could not happen ... I said"
"To say nothing of the other tenants ... the real criminals ..."
'It is true! There are elements creepy! "
"All lazy"
"They say that there are people from very specific trends"
"What a shame!"
"But what kind of world we live in! Must be clean!"
"Thieves and drug addicts"
"And then that man ... what's his name ... Marchetti, Marchini or something ..."
"Mr. Marcheli ... always comes back late at night and by day we never see"
"I think it strange deception"
"bums and idiots"
"And then that girl on the second floor ... Gaia ... but have you seen how skinny? ... and dark circles! "
" And how is wearing ... and the shaved head ... but I tell parents? "
" It was so good in this neighborhood ... hope they go quickly! "
" Luckily I do not live in this house "
Raggricciata on the floor in a corner, trembling at the foot of the door ... ... staring into the long corridor ... the gaze to the open window down the hall ... I Suardo fixed out the window to the building ... staring into the mystery.
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The eyes on the road already 'almost empty, try Michelle' to calm down. That situation had nothing to do nothing with her, no: it was only by chance ', just everyday life' desperate. But the man who was with a cigarette? 'cause he had never seen? what was he doing in Vico Love? He was able 'to break away from the window and go back' on the bed. She felt feverish. Those bad dreams ... "I'm going crazy maybe ..." Port is' a hand to his forehead. "But this awakening, my God ..".
Dreams and reality '... reality 'and dreams. And the border was becoming blurred, vague, fuzzy here. Waking up was how to continue to fight with the monsters of the night. The door creaked
'soon. Michelle gave a start '. Then he saw bright eyes of his cat, in the twilight. A sigh of relief and response in a soft meow, reassuring. With two jumps the cat was by her, ronfante on the bed, looking strokes. Michelle smiled slightly: a little 'quiet simple. But
recovered in the eyes for a moment the image of the street full of people who swarmed on.
one house. 'Cause she had moved into that house? It all began then. But perhaps it was only a weak connection. Stretched her young body and relax provo'a. Meanwhile, the man with the cigarette was still in the street, lost in thought in front of a bloodstain. He alone now.
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A man with cigarette and slowly walked to the square of Vico Love ... the windows of the houses near the building were all open except for one ... the windows of the building were all closed except for one ... people began to flee, now there was nothing to see, the body was enclosed in a wooden box on the asphalt and there was a green sheet and some blood stain ... the man looked up and stared at the open window of the building, no light, darkness. It was the third floor window. He kept staring at it and he continued to smoke a cigarette. The smoke hid his right eye.
The night was ending and the lights were about to go out. A policeman approached the man and said, "Excuse me, where is she going?". The man threw a cigarette in a manhole and said: "I live here in the building ... I'm Mr. Marcheli. The policeman waved the head and left the property man at the door of the building. He adjusted his coat and the man crossed the threshold.
Michelle noticed everything. He noticed the slightest movement of the man. His heart was beating a thousand. She was afraid to open the shutter. He was afraid of being thrown into that unfortunate situation. His was the only closed shutter in front of the building. It was a dream, a nightmare for her. A nightmare. Everything was a nightmare. Every detail, every sigh, every mewing, every creak of the furniture was turning into a miserable state of anxiety.
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Cool stars in the sky, but still the same as always. The building more 'darker than usual. The shadow had appeared just the window was extended in the light of the streetlight, then had a strange magical flight, to vanish into the void. And now there was all the commotion in the street, all that soul.
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All quiet street dwellers wake up in the middle of the night, thrown in the reality without any respect for the pleasant dreams that were muffled dreaming ... All poured into the empty darkness between the peep of light, where the stars were not visible, those same stars that the building looked.
no Michelle, Michelle had stopped his usual nightmare to the sirens wandering beneath her window. Panting had opened his eyes in the dark room with the feeling that the dream continues, with the feeling that it was doing more 'real, more and more' real, frighteningly real. The chills, the cold blood, and screaming in the street came with violence in the weary head. The building
the look ', between the cracks of the blinds, just in front. It 's all that night it was just habit, only the loneliness of someone who was all alone. But Michelle, Michelle had to sleep a peaceful sleep was dreaming sweet dreams. He should have. But, even that night, as the shadow fading she lived her torment.