L'asfalto cominciava a mandare calore e nel Hero walks felt that emptiness inside useless.
He realized that something was about to break, which would soon be as before.
A lot of things had happened and it had worked, sometimes realizing it, and well.
was him, the same child who was running with others I try to frogs, the same as those nights kissed his beautiful barns on the sly, he almost became overwhelmed Girardengo to touch the shirt, which he shot and killed , and had to return to live with a smile.
The years had flown non-stop and without looking back, free gift, but thankless, ungrateful and just this hour breathe.
These and a lot of other things, along with those who were surrounding him in those days still a sultry summer that did not seem to end, it worked and made it more like the man who was becoming. Walking
meant to know, meant to sweat and tremble in the certainty of knowing what we already knew for years.
What for years had been his torment, his comparison impossible.
hero was still in short pants and ran with a green bike scassatissima reel fixed before the war, when he met Lucy, the CIA for all.
passed the fountain as the station every morning, and pretty cool if you could see in the murky waters of leaves.
then began to gain experience, and not only bicycles were the gems of the crown on the head to bring those days.
Soon began to look at her in secret, leaving a tissue and an apple on the marble fountain.
She took it and looked around, knowing look and smile with that evil little girl Andrea dreamed day and night.
was after four mornings that if he saw in the workshop, beautiful and fragrant with the grace of its 16 years.
"I came to bring you the fazzoletti.Devi pay more attention, they were all dirty grasso.Grazie for apples."
like a purple bell pepper, under the amused eyes of Burdeis, Hero asked for a permit five minutes.
"Since you know?"
"But now, poor farinello.Credi that lie beneath the pines would do the trick?"
"So perchè...?"
"Volevo vedere quanto andavi avanti...avresti consumato il corredo di tua madre?"
"E finite le mele della cantina...mio padre le conta, ma non importava."
"Non bastava chiedermi di fare una passeggiata?"
"Non si fa cosi, o almeno, io non..."
"Non lo hai mai fatto, vero?"
"No."
"Puoi farlo ora.Son qua che aspetto."
"Esco alle sei.Fino al Falchetto?"
"Anche io alle sei.Ma alla Riva.Abito là."
"Dalla stazione, stasera."
" Stasera,ciao."
Per mesi erano stati i morosetti "dlà stasiun".
Pioggia o sole, i macchinisti, i camicia nera o i viandanti che si trovavano a passare those shares at 6 pm, they saw the two young men to leave the country, to handle him, her legs on the barrel to the side.
away a year went on.
was a May evening in which the lime trees sent perfume and sweetness, which saw the tears and knew everything at once.
There was no need of many words, walking to St. Matthew.
"There andiamo.Mio father change factor."
" te.Dovunque I will come."
"A saperlo.Nemmeno sa.Siam him in the bathroom."
"We sposarci.Io I love you?"
"Do not say so.Non goffagini.Abbiam milk bocca.Dimenticami.Trovati still a good wife."
"I want you."
"No.Non looking for a più.Fattene ragione.L 'love ends. "
fled With those words, quick in the stubble.
chissadove He left two days later, not one word more.
pain was the first hero of the first and strongest.
Something was about to return to the surface, beneath that stubborn sun of the fifties.
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