afternoon. One of those afternoons that happen a few times in life. One afternoon to take stock of the situation. Rieccoti, alfie. Again on the black armchair in front of your PC and in the air that smell of home.
Enter quickly. I I read on the couch next to a book, "Harry Potter et l'Ordre du Phenix". The clicking of keys and locks I turn to look. Set the left index finger. Have you hurt yourself? I get closer to understanding. It sounds like a bladder. A medium-sized bladder. Wet. The droplets are sprayed. Drops of amazement mixed with nostalgia and regret. I start to fix them. They look like one of those glass balls you see in the movies .. those of the witches .. pictures, images, faces chasing around those droplets.
And I see you with your luggage while preparing Magone and systems in the hallway of your room. I see you upload them at dawn in a white van. I see you sitting laughing carefree countryside and watching the city slide by window. I see you get off the van as you bite your lip and look around in confusion. Shake hands. Know. Mental processing names and ways of doing things. Then another car. Big and black. Even roads that are passing. You who take your bags. And still hand to hold the warmth and wonder. Maybe they will go well, maybe not .. a total embarrassment to dinner, getting started with the new language and they r made of strange.
Then everything is fast. Tropo quick to distinguish them well. You that you prepare to hold a conversation in three languages. Mille plat du jour that run fast. Cigarettes smoked in a quiet command and the next. The satisfaction of those service yelled. People believed that even could exist. Slowly enter the lives of others and discover their secrets: an alcoholic, a gay, a former fat in the diet, an ex-husband three times ... recognize, greet, explain who you are and where you come from. Scrutinize the work of others to understand better. A case of breadcrumbs which aroused astonishment. A return to room dripping with water. Mille watch episodes of supernatural or charmed with diana. Sleepless nights, pain tends to pull at dawn made you wake up. Your face amazed with his mouth open in front of the cathedral, the requests for roads, amid laughter from Italian to French, a boat that tells you where you are. Hours of shops would rather be elsewhere. A trip by car to sleep past, tears nostalgia for those who have left home, a phone that anger does not work, and then two and three. One night, startled screams of excited, get out and discover that half the restaurant no longer exists because it rained a bit 'too much. Painful blisters on hands and knees to help. Calls that lifted the morale and drove paranoia. Others who did not want to ever receive a race ... but unfortunately in a pharmacy full of mud. And more mud .. firefighters who do not understand what are you doing them. Nights of relief to forget about the restaurants in its restaurant. A birthday that you did not want to wait past three posts that did not seem to get .. and some did not arrive and then anger. You crouched behind the sauna to listen to the music hoping that everything was over, a walk alone to try to vent anger. An unexpected cake and football matches. Film in French, catch up with those who have made the trip, having to leave and then return shortly after. The terror of that phone call, fear that the spell was over. A new kitchen, new people, new problems, new everything. Swim in the pool and games .. whirlpools of hours, the smell of spray glazing throughout the house, misunderstandings, painful climb to the cathedral. Photos that do so much but know that you're not good. A sandwich in speed, a fine coach, hear familiar sounds and say hey but you're Italian!. The cheering of certain matches, ta mère, putain, vieux with screaming just for fun spray of water, a morning at the spa, orangery and parrots. You who charms to look and feel just like them in a cage, the Scazzi of 'indecision about where to go, what to do, where to eat. Quiet bus ride. A train to run to catch him and a driver who has had enough of a thousand questions. A disco night spent watching the screen of the phone. Waste spontaneous because there is someone waiting at home. Confused memories and strange. A birthday party between fights and laughter. Many, many more. A song sung and played repeatedly. The kitchen radio that will sound familiar .. run to increase the volume and then call to say and then do not say boh, no one knows. People who went for a variety of issues ... the expectation of return that did not seem to get. A blackboard with the countdown. Grocery shopping cart to go up and get carried back to a little 'children. Names that run in the head angel, Stephanie, works, marie clair, pine, anna, marie, James, Joseph, and anna still, and yet Joseph and Laura, Patricia, Francis, Jean-Louis Pascal, Bertrand, laurent, pierre , katia, fabrice, alexis, Michelangelo ... and the names now escape. Champagne for a farewell drink-wanted unwanted ...
All this before returning home one day in advance, open the door without making noise, get in the kitchen and say "I'm back." And yet the joy people's faces. That does not seem to understand the memories, emotion .. all this to come home with some very important decisions, to mature, to grow, to feel a bit 'bigger .. to say: I've been on them for messing with freshly minted words and accents ...
The tears are gone. I look at you and you're not bad. Had a slight nostalgia ... I can not see anything but .. who knows .. maybe another time, maybe you better explain them to me all those pictures ..
ALFIE is back.
You look around, look at the last lines .. you seem to be sliding but the leaves so little. Written cast.
You seem to have concluded. You are about to post when you remember a whale in the head ..
Put your fingers on the keys and displays a message:
ÇA MARCHE ...
