Pokemon Blue Online Play

Seventeen.

Already, the number of bad luck.
But no matter.
The blog ends here.
E 'was an attempt, some fun.
certainly pleasant.
Unfortunately, however, has not had the results hoped for.
does not matter.
Who does not, however, does not leak.

Ah, one more thing.
Who wants, I can send the whole file. A
mail here.
teoalcirco (at) hotmail (dot) com

Teo

Southpark Cisco Phone

In the previous chapter: one can be happy with little.
You can be happy with less.
It is important to understand what is happy.
And this here, probably, in my opinion, just be with her.
Also because, in my opinion, there is just no understanding.
But I think you go around the whole of Milan as deficient?
And then, again in my opinion, someone brings bad luck here.
all die ... die too!
At least now, I'm close to something ... anything ... but what?

But something, we were not close to a cock. That weighed on me that I felt in my fingers, I could not touch anything. Everything was left hanging at the level of words. O two-bit of trivia, like the yellow of the blockbuster TV dramas. For a while ' you could also play on, turn to the discovery of America knows that, look for new ways, to learn some other well-known, can decide to take that car and then feel a bit 'rich and a bit' in disguise every time.
Only after a while, 'that he speaks, he speaks a little' less, less and less, until the stupid thing and then do not talk about it anymore. Like a dream come ambition, and a project and then it becomes a memory.
Outside it was raining, and raining a lot. It was Sunday morning, and winter was not that I knew where there were sweaters. I felt like the drops beat on the glass of dry pine needles.
Leaning on his elbows and on the counter, I thought it would be difficult for the home team, playing the game at San Siro, with the sod that you lift the heavy grass, puddles in front of the doors and everything else. Not to mention the toes of the spectators in the stands that would have atrophied. But, as I was concerned, little changed. I was dry and the football shortly after them. Or, I was simply a victim of laziness that attacks any person when it's cold outside. But it should be '. It was only the beginning of the fatigue that comes always after the start.
In fact, after discussion with Emily in my house, we had turned into a sort of Starsky and Hutch Italian. 70's car, laps huge for the city following the tracks that were based more on intuition than on suspects. And throw in the evening on the sofa together like two notes of a chord, was enough to recharge the batteries for the next day. But then it was not enough anymore, and instead of charging one hundred percent, it reached eighty. Then in the seventies, the sixties, the forty-five. And so on, to zero.
I noticed when I filled the third in three days. The Fiat Cinquecento, a machine that consumed almost like a Vespino. The thing was no longer tenable. Yes, it was nice to have that talk for hours and wrecked in the streets, but we had done nothing, and frankly, rather than fatigue, boredom salirmi felt in the legs.
I felt the same sensation from small. At some point in the summer, maybe a few days before August, I wanted to leave his grandparents in California and return home in Milan. Although I knew also that I would soon be tired and I would not miss the fries in the shape of baby's grandmother, someone without an arm or a leg. But I wanted to go home and nothing else. To hear once again the smell of closed two months in the drawers and find the hidden cars in fear of something.
Especially since the sixteenth century was far from the border out of the game. A few days before, it was the old white Fiat to give me one of the biggest disappointments. No fault, certain mechanical last forty years, let alone, but she parked in the box, face forward and the steering turned 90 degrees, well, 'was not the same thing. Was perhaps to be nostalgia, but it was a matter of line, style, and had the Alpha Five hundred no, that's all. Or maybe it was just a matter of bitterness, as the Alfetta had me taken away cowardly thieves in the night, without even turning it on. Even so, to run the engine, one would have noticed.
Some sounds are like the cries of their children.
They did a work up. Lock de garage intact, had even closed the door. For the Police, during the complaint, it seemed strange. According to them I was a drunkard, drug addict who had parked somewhere where and if it was forgotten. Furthermore, it appears also to be an unemployed person whatsoever, and luck. If they knew where I worked, I might as well put a jail.
Or maybe he knew and that play of overtones and "we know that you do not know" them merry. Instead I was crying, her cheeks hot air almost liquid in his throat.
Since morning I awoke with a lump in my stomach that I could not connect to anything. Perhaps the thousands of cigarettes smoked per day. But his hands trembled and because I found it in any rational explanation.
And when I got to open the box, only to see that the shadow of the exhaust pipe on the wall indicated the presence of Alfa, I dropped to his knees. I began to sob, without fear of my face in front of the neighbors. More than
robbed, I felt betrayed, dall'Alfetta who had decided to go with someone else. And even if the Corps recognized the sincerity of my tears, it was no use to continue to perform.
fact is that I signed the complaint. So at that point, the desire to do anything out of the ordinary, I was long past.
Emily does not. The ideas were as numerous as the raindrops on my head and now I pounded on the asphalt. He seemed not to care about my state of mind. Besides, I had indulged in every way, even without claiming one of his few explanation for its persistence. I thought you just want something different in a daily life that did not give me anything. And I had not bothered to explain.
But now that money is essentially beginning to end, did not seem like more time to waste time.
This, too, Emily knew. He had noticed on my way to shift gears on the laziness of shotguns, by the way not to accompany her in libraries. Everything was starting to bother me, even his way of wanting to distract. But not realizing that did not help at all, on his own, went on. But where?
from the death of Turri, had begun to study the pigeons. He had read that really were among the animals most advanced of its kind, supporting the thesis of the article and the journalist. We were back in Sormani and had read the article ten, hundred, thousand times. He thought that we had missed something, a detail, which was the turning point of the story.
Instead, nothing. We had one month after the same information that I had the first time. And so
speed, load, we had made a thousand. In the municipal offices, to understand the move, but Mr. Anselmo is always been a resident there. Nothing. Land registry, to understand the internal changes in the apartment, any restructuring or the like. Nothing. Even the phone company to find a minimum opening. Nothing. We had returned to the apartment of Mr. Anselmo. We had been rebuilt, thanks to the photos that Emily had done perfectly. In every detail. And the more we delved into every hidden corner. I was wondering if we were really looking for something or if I worked part time for a cleaning company. Nothing.
But things if they have to go to a certain extent, continue to go that way. We had traveled for days and days without a draw from a spider hole, indeed. At the register, including cards and paperwork, at home, including pots and chairs, wherever in short, we had found too many spiders. But only those, anything useful. It was the drop and the substrate.
And so, instead of that activity vulgar, I was dedicated to smoking full time.
car does not smoke, but just outside, the buttocks resting on the plate, lighter and cigarette. It was Emily, came, he read, he did. And I spipazzare out. Placid and resigned as a crocodile.
And every time he went out from anywhere, silently, steps in four quarters, entered the car, waiting for me to finish, if I was running out, and said: "No," shaking his head.
After a while, 'even the most went to take. She came to me, shaking me. A coffee together and then we went out. And one more day until the evening, smoking cigarettes and being told: "Nothing," as he shook his head.
It should be '. And then in the dark in my kitchen that smelled of closed and breakfasts, from what I was there they would make the summary. Also in the same way, with only those four items to the poor that we had. And even if
four clues are a test, there are four elements.
A thunder rang through the windows. The telephone rang as a drill, but I did not move an inch.

What Is A Sleeper Piercing

Sixteen Fifteen Fourteen

In the previous chapter: things slide so.
One takes a step at a time. Then it seems that is good for nothing. Get
them. They go, do, undo.
It also seems that no use.
But then maybe you need something. A
always need something.
This everybody knows.
But what, unfortunately, nobody knows.

Light TV lit up the room intermittently. If he had not had the audio, it would be a worthy alternative to a lamp shade.
Emily had not wanted to know to go away, and had followed me down the stairs of the garage, at home, to the kitchen. I did not understand fully his behavior, but his steps in the four quarters, in fact, I did not mind at all.
I removed the volume of the television, and sat at the table. You are in front of me.
I did not know if my face was overshadowed by his head, but the fact remained that I, in my eyes, I could not see it. The light screen behind him showed the perimeter Hair, like modern aura. Or the old advertising AIDS.
While I was thinking about these things, you, as if my house was already there, he took the glasses from the doors over the sink and the bottle of wine from the closet. Swaying hips almost like a dancer.
was a wine of the Valtellina, the good ones that always come from Nebbiolo grapes. I could not feel bound by the finding that he was one of my favorites.
"But how did you know?" I asked.
"All in all the houses have over the sink and glasses of wine, hold it in the closet and doors at the bottom of the kitchen. Unless it is in view, I agree. As the cutlery. I've always in the top drawer. Easy, right? "
Indeed he was right. There are details that fall within the genetic code of humans.
For the French uvular R, for the Germans, the hardness and rigidity to the Swedish beauty, for the Chinese rice. You can not escape.
fact is that, sitting opposite each other, we harness the thoughts as if they were mud. I could not stop either one, as if not really thought about it, and probably was the same for Emily. In the apartment next to mine, he felt his life slip off indifferent to my needs. The sounds of dishes and television announcing the dinner along with soft voices on the day's events, I never understood. When my parents were told in a more or less excited what had happened to them, as a child you fool me angry. I did not understand that could mean sharing a normal day, just for them, in sharing, had already a long time now.
Yet that night in front of Emily, I felt the need.
And I was ready to touch a hand, I reached out slowly to distracted and felt the blood began to flow rapidly into the veins. The musculature of the phalanges seemed to swell and inhibit the movements, as when the arms become the wood after making an effort on the port. I could almost feel the contact, I could imagine touching it, when he began to speak. And everything was broken. Tense muscles relaxed and inhaled.
"us," said disgruntled.
She did not return the bill. He complained of my grabble. What claimed. Mica was a private investigator. And who said that proceeded the wrong way, since there is a right or wrong way to proceed if, to proceed, you have a point to proceed.
"Because if this is not, tell me what is the point, dear?" I was angry and I was sour. First, because I could not stand criticism. Secondly, because I had other intentions. Finally, because if one gets into trouble, is fending for himself. And then I wanted to do, here.
But despite my bad mood, he continued.
"Even if he's dead?"
"Even if he is dead. He could think of before. "
" Yes. Think first to die "
" No. Just thought of that before. Before you get into trouble. Death, the end is always just around the corner. To this one must always follow the maxim of Confucius: "I said triumphantly quoting Mr. Anselmo," without your cocks. "
I had stretched and it was clear. But instead of feeling a little Caesar, I felt a little stupid.
Maybe because I had hurt.
But no matter, there are situations in which everything is permitted. Especially when the exchange is one to one: either me or her. And in that If, however, I was better.
But there remained a fund's true, the affirmation of Emily. And perhaps to recover, perhaps because I was convinced I, I told him.
"In fact, things do not add up. The letter to the Turri who had written to me. And Turri had died a decade earlier. And Mr. Anselmo could not know, then if the grave was a Mr. Nobody who was waiting for me. Bo. "Concluded. I drank a glass of wine in one gulp, like the elderly after a bad hand of cards come in bowls circles. Emily
instead sipped. And licking his upper lip began.
"Listen. Let us see it that way. You told me the smell of coffee. And even with the Gossip, the thing does not fall. So what can be a point. Point which falls outside the home. Or there lived in that house, or you, you lied.
In the letter I sent, he said that he would leave for a period of time large enough. So, for example, because the rent is due in six months and not now? "
How strange to note that when the discussions are the hottest and the distances become greater, even the language changes. and becomes more polished.
"Yes, maybe it's an idea. But maybe there are contractual difficulties, what do you know. Or perhaps your idea of \u200b\u200ba long time can also be a month. Or maybe he did not want losing your home. What do you know. Of course he had not calculated to die! "
" It may be, all right. But how do you explain the Turri. He wanted me to become aware of his death, the type more than anything else, no? "And while I stuck a smile on your teeth, Emily stiffened up to gelarmi eyes. I lowered my head and if I could, I would have also lowered his ears over his eyes. Instead I pretended that I had not nothing, searching for cigarettes in his pocket. Excellent find, to recover my position. Emily
Often I felt that way. A role player off the mercy of the reporters. And those of you who were the eyes of the coach and at the same time you complain that you get them going. A scar then, for perhaps the entire league, between the ear and the angle of the mouth, with how many stitches you will never be completely healed. Yawned.
"Probably, they wanted to get there, you idiot. Did not you think? "I scolded.
tobacco and the paper began to burn sizzle.
"Probably. I did not know that your nose, though. So now we have to wait for someone or something to tell us what to do, simply. "
" No. Let us know your smell of coffee. "
" But where do we start, head? "A little 'I was beginning to enjoy. Even if the reins were back in my hands. Mr. Anselmo knew me, not you. He had left everything to me, not her. He had sent the letter to me, not her. I made him this.
"Of course. Then arranged. I'm going home. Do it yourself, "he said while the legs of the chair began to crawl on the tiled floor.
"No, no, wait. Ok, we do together "and she sat down, breathing like a patient mother.
"One more thing, Emily. Why he told me to take care of you, if you've never met? "I asked the question came out as a sob.
"Listen. I do not know. But also you said that you feel comfortable, if a little 'thin. Obviously you watched and if you watched, I saw me too. Do not you think? "
I had wrought. In fact, I had really screwed. And in his face you could see clearly that the contract was waiting for a reply confirming my defeat. With a nod
granted his wish. But I thought I was in there man, looking for some way to tie the game. And then I was playing at home. It did not matter at all that away goals were worth double. In this competition, at least, it did not matter.
"Okay, come on. Want a cigarette? "I said. If I had not had the last line, the closing of the speech, I would have gone down too. I had freshly prepared plain of contention.
But I was aware, was beginning to like this game. Or maybe I liked being with her.
"And then tomorrow we go to the sixteenth century. We must begin to think like Mr. Anselmo. I've seen it in movies, "said proud of my conclusion, extinguishing the butt in the ashtray. I could not at all. A wisp of smoke still rose. I got up and I put in a bit 'of water. I had always been afraid of fires.
Emily shook her head as if to say no, but did not say. I really want to go around with that white box.
She was clear, he knew my thoughts.
"Take off that smile from his lips. You look like a fool. " He smiled, as only certain times you smile. I reached my finger to touch the lower lip, as if by doing so I could steal a bit 'naive of that beauty. The chandelier reflected in the shadow of my arm on the table, the heat of the breath that came out of my nose touched the back of his hand. I do not mind or were in the ox or donkey, but the vague smell of Marseille, which rose in the kitchen, I shook the pit of my stomach.
In the head and in front of me rushing the pictures of the last days. Enigma which we did not know that fake answer, that investigation that we were boarded by the poor more with curiosity than with detective instincts and hands of Emily and fluttered in his slow way of speaking. The jaw moves and
contracted in the desire to kiss her. Something was changing between us and around us.
Perhaps, indeed, were close to something.

Plus Size Maid Of Honor Dresses

In the previous chapter: be ', I seem to have reached a good point, no?
He discovers that practically nothing. And who is that guy? Boh.
just that there's another guy who tells you to go see a newspaper. Well, it will be.
You two seem to me that these two idiots.
And she seems a bit 'at a time ... but yes, but yes.
These two, it ends up that lemonade.


I turned the car toward the Via Larga, after a mixed set of traffic lights with mirror those palaces that conceal the employees. Proceeded in fits and starts, without saying a word. Emily probably thought I was shocked by his action of reactionary bucarmi the car, but that was not the reason. It was clear however, how he moved his hands clasped as mozzarella, which began to move her guilt.
was in the middle of Broad street, after a shop selling sundries and military uniforms, which badly tore the clutch and turned off the machine to take the green. I was surprised how much of her gesture.
It had never happened. And we both knew very well how this could damage valves and pistons. Without calculating the clutch discs that were closed abruptly. But instead
curse me, I burst out laughing. Of a smile that forced me to stop the car in front of a bus, not caring how it was obvious the no parking and stopping. The bus would arrive, however, was stopping in the middle of the carriageway and the indifference of the passengers had also played a role. And when that happened, I was surrounded by millions of ants shall release the obstruction.
Emily's concern was evident when he started biting her nails. The care devoted to his hands was not enough to nerve syndromes. But it was enough to unfreeze the situation and begin the discussion on Turri. As for defense strategies, I was a real magician.
"Wait a minute, now I tell you" while the tears down my already over-achieved the cheekbones, making slalom between the hairs of his beard.
"I found the article speaks of Turri," I said between sobs obtuse that I caused my breath stopped.
And I told her everything. In a variable interval between two minutes and half an hour. I could not help myself.
"Poor fellow," was his comment after learning of pigeons. On the other hand there are the journalists to a wedding with such stories. The taste of the macabre has always been a good game to the success of an article, and no matter the setting or the party's liberal newspaper, in these cases. And the fact that the same Turri along the canals with his 127 gave no less color to the piece.
But at this point was the funniest thing. It seemed you wanted to describe a characteristic of the city of Milan, the amount of pigeons in the center of Milan had always fascinated the tourists. But the pigeons themselves, animals are harmless and stupid enough, they became a weapon of death and destruction, was never even considered. Instead, this time they rebelled. It is unknown if the engine against the noisy machines of the '70s, or against a snub suffered in your area, as in the great gangster movies now gone. The fact remains, well described in the article, that a flock of pigeons-but then, the birds move in flocks? - Had attacked machine Poor Turri. But not only. The first of these birds had even broken the window, leaving the feathers on an outcrop, while a second, which followed on its heels, had stuck with the bill in the temple.
At this point, Turri had gone astray, "for fear" he had told the police, "already dead," said the paper, and was finished in the Naviglio Grande. If he died or drowned if he had been killed by the pigeons was not yet clear. Signal that manifesto, however, were left on the area of \u200b\u200bpigeon crap, without disturbing and unconscionable. As if the pigeons would like to inform civilians that they had to leave the area.
It did not end here. The journalist, he reached the place first of the Force, indulged in pseudo-scientific treatises, and added that the pigeons, a bird most advanced of their kind, the crows, once hunted and killed thanks to the burner. And again, the swinging movement of the head, back and forth, was a thing of the past: in fact, just this spring device in the neck, allowing them to absorb the impact and stay dry. In this way, then, had been killed Turri.
"Funny, no?" I said, unable to stop.
No, she was not funny. With eyes wide open and hands congealed, Emily was shocked.
I did not think that my narrative ability was so uninvolving. And the more it made me laugh, the more I looked at Emily's eyes widened. At one point I stopped, fearing perhaps that the bulbs come out of their sockets.
"What," I asked. It did not seem so absurd to laugh at death unlikely. Perhaps because it was not a relative of mine, obviously, but it did not seem so absurd. Like the vet who had to leave a constipated cow. But he smoked and, with the atomic fart cow, caught fire. Some stories are funny as already underground legends, imagine if they become reality.
But she did not agree. He considered him stupid and in bad taste. And then there was a dead person, even if I did not know directly, it was still a friend of Mr. Anselmo.
"Argument weak," I replied angrily. It is possible that a person of taste who have never laughs, is cutting through the legs of the net once you enjoy, what the fuck.
Basta. I had been ruined the day. I would stay in a bad mood until the evening.
rekindled the car, only satisfaction, he left the first time. I put the arrow, the first, with the intention to bring it home, storing them in boxes and drink a glass of wine. Emily gets by. As for me, might as well go on foot.

How To Make A Bmx Look Cool

In the previous chapter: Oh, finally think things will change instantly. One moment. Then we see
.
But the fact is that this guy is moving in the wake of the emotion.
A minimum of hot wind and he's already in your underwear.
seems to be almost 80 years in those movies where nothing happens but then it happened a mess of stuff, so you do not even know you're very late and then and maybe it did not happen, believe anything because you asleep on the most beautiful, and then friends but you say, 'Oh, that's cool! The film yesterday, did not you see? ' and you, yeah yeah, I saw, but I did not seem and feel a bit 'silly mica because you'll be asleep for real with a film so damn beautiful ...

left the bar not reveal anything, in fact. I am dedicated to customers and to the young ladies with an almost disturbing. Sometimes, with mild signs of hand, I even asked to leave. The tables of iron were always neat and clean, as if fearing a sudden visit by an inspector of hygiene. There, where not even put foot traffic wardens. As such, of course, not as men, since, as men, they put more than a foot. The only thing I cared about, was instead listening to GR. I was worried. I thought at any moment would come out something special about me more or less directly. I held the cigarette between his teeth, to the minute news. Only the sport, let the index and middle fingers of the right did the rest of the jaw muscles.
Often, lifting his hand from the bar, I left the imprint of the palm. As in primitive caves, almost.
But everything seemed to spin smoothly.
One day, Emily asked me a ride back home. We dismantle together, coincidence or intention, and I did not see any reason to negarglielo. From the night to the cemetery, we had almost turned the word about it.
I needed to break through the inertia. While mending a skirt with his hands on the seat, I talked to her. Suspects and the police, the little that I knew and as much as I imagined.
"It was time that you decide. I also have things to say. The tomb of Turri. There was a guy who waited. But he found me. A Musocco, crying with fear "
" And what did he say. "
" Of course, I did nothing! "He shouted.
I had never heard it. Not even to fake orgasms. She must have really been afraid. And then there was nothing, what I had to worry about. And since she returned to work, even the rape thing was confirmed. I was surprised, however, that could create me of the annoyance in his voice that high pitch. We had to stop, for my own good.
"Yes I worry, I'm sorry, "I tried to recover," but tell me. So what? "
short. This guy she had met had sent the other guy to keep me company and to report what had been told to me. He wanted to keep me busy, of course.
"That's why he's not for dinner then dug a hole from a spider. Continues, "I intervened. Emily
concluded. And what I smelled. I did not know why, but my sixth sense told me that I would return in the evening at home too tired to watch a movie. But the thing was beginning to enjoy myself.
First, the guy's grave had given her the name of a newspaper and advised to read the article in the day he died Turri, page of the chronicle.
"Can not you?" I asked, almost angrily.
"No," replied Emily. "Then we must wait"
"I do not back a particular. What was said in the letter of Mr. Anselmo. "
" Nothing. It was a sort of pass because we recognize the guy in the cemetery. "
" Why did you put all that time to exit. Basically you have not spoken much, "I asked fearing an extraordinary rather macabre.
are angry. "Foolish. You know because I live so, and you also know that I do not like. It took me so much because he wanted to be sure about who I was. He waited for a man and I introduce myself. You think? "
So the first stage, the Sormani Library, the only one who owned and microfilm archives of most newspapers. The moods of Emily were secondary. The fact that he looked out the window, with the nose attached to the glass, do not affect me at all. If not for the fact that, to the glass, the anointed of the nose would stay. But perhaps it was not the case let him out now.

"What a loser to death" was my first comment. The muscles of the face had remained tense to stifle laughter. I could not help myself. I was in a library, for that matter.
wrapped up the microfilm that had been transferred to the paper of the month in which Turri had died, and riconsegnai. With his
still drawn, I breathed the books down the stairs and the voices of students who had once belonged to me too. Do not envy them at all, with their leisure days lost between a vacation and an examination. Indeed. If I could, I would tell them all, one by one, that this condition was the same as those sitting on the toilet, has nothing to give but he wants to end the chapter of the book you are reading.
smile even to this idea, but went out. Parked between the yellow lines of the handicapped was the Alpha, supported with the hip to the hood, however, Emily was smoking.
It was a show of force. He screamed, mumbled and even slammed the door for me not to park in that space. Threatening a fine salty and removal.
"Well," I had replied. "So you stay down to treat me the car."
She was so stone that had not moved. And I had seized the moment to run away fast from the situation.
As soon as I saw it, breathe in and out quickly. He looked slow to the brazier in his hand and started to lower it, still on, yellow on the body.
This time I was petrified to stay. It seemed that it was doing to me. Indeed, it seemed to me to be like those in performance of body art, in which the artist or deficient, by choice, sticking a paperclip into the urethra and goose bumps for the viewer pain that does not prove.
Nails Emily stopped to half a centimeter from the paint. I felt the heat that was in the foam of space.
"Do not try anymore," he hissed.
"Certainly, my lady" was the one who telepathically transmitted them. I was not able to speak. I felt a weight in your gut, just behind the breastbone. I was short of breath, his mouth open in the slot.
breathed deeply, as if for the first time. And allowed the car exhaust and heating the plate a little 'lungs with tar and silver.

Catchy Phrases For 50th Birthday Invitations

Eleven Twelve Thirteen

In the previous chapter: ok, yes. I accept the letter. But then the recipient is dead. Car accident, said the caretaker Southerner. Maybe
was drunk.
Okay ', I said.
Ok, yes. I also accept the fact of law to romantic Cemetery.
Although it seems a bit a stuff 'from necrophilia.
Yuck.
But both he has not joined.
and found another guy out there. It seems that everyone follow him.
But maybe this guy, anything, really knows.
If you take him away.
While Emily was also moved, to the grave.
must be a sweet, her.

Instead, it was not hard at all. A little 'because the guy that we had brought to dinner, did not know anything more than what had already said, a bit 'because the dinner was nice, however. Emily, after a few glasses of red Puglia, had pulled out a soul aggressive and ironic that I had not yet discovered. I found out, and the needy instead of having attended the same high school, and then it seemed like a reunion with an old friend. Of course, if we had not ordered three bottles of Primitivo so, on two feet, would not have happened. But we did and everything went how it went.
way home, however, with the breath of wind passing through the window and I raised the hair on the left temple, I realized that was not made another hole in the water. Not entirely, anyway.
I mean. If the first the suspicions we had about the death of Mr. Anselmo was based on allegations of an old and personal feelings, but now, after bonding with Turri, we found that there was something more. And if the police had caught up, the idea became a certainty.
At least this show from the 70s I had learned.
Only problem: I did not know which way I was leaving or I would come to that point. It also strongly doubt that Emily, of course, I pulled in half. I was not conscientious enough to be left out of everything. Above all, I did not want to be alone. Mal common halved the other hand. And if you say, its the foundation we have as well. I liked repeat it, it gave me security.
I was smitten, and that night I parked the car as I did not do for some time. Ass to the bottom of the box, who cares of the wall and the Vespa, headlights and muzzle ready to go. And the front wheels slightly turned. We have to go to be ready and fast.
Or at least convince themselves of it, otherwise I would piss on him immediately.
Or maybe it was wine.



Open the radio news this morning with a news service that hit the entire Italian public opinion. MAN DIES IN DROWNING
Naviglio Grande: ACCIDENT OR ENVIRONMENTAL ALARM?

He died that night, aboard his 127, Alessandro Turri, private citizen about 50 years. He found it in the Canal Grande, the team of divers City of Milan, after receiving news of the accident to a lady who attended the affair. According to police, this is an accident as it happens a lot in Milan. But according to the old lady who saw the scene, Turri is not simply disbanded.
"No, no. I've seen. There were so many pigeons, they went to him. The smashed all the glass, hit him and then he ended up in the canal! "
In support of this testimony, it would have shattered the windows of the car-breaking, however, that may be linked to needs for recovery car-and a hole with a diameter of about two centimeters on the temple of the victim.
The problem of pigeons in a city like Milan, has risen to the attention of the press and institutions for some years. Since about ten years ago, a swarm attacked a parade of new trucks instruction included patrols of the Carabinieri Milanese, reaching almost to hit the government officials then come as guests. Without causing any damage, fortunately.
Probably, in both cases, the territory has been violated that the pigeons had recognized as their own. And then they attacked.
Is it possible? According to Mark Merinei, a leading expert on the subject, yes.
"The pigeons are among the most advanced of their kind. It originally had this characteristic. In fact, just think that they can reach dive more than 100 km / h, which can identify the source of heat in the bodies of other living beings, who manage to remain unscathed in the impact due to their neck in spring "We
really in danger?

From Milan, Libero Della Valentina Maria.

Pool Tables Blueprints

In the previous chapter, 'Go, look at him. Lancia away his cigarette as he said who knows the truth.
But he started just doing what you told him to do the old man. Take a minimum the situation in hand, keep a minimum in hand.
Yes, time to punch that just decided to go alone from Turri, with him there is also Emily.
Bel handful of chocolate, which has this one.
I also throw away the stub, it should be.
fall.
Ché gets really cold out here and know we can not stay here for combing the dolls.

They turned the red numbers on the odometer and watched the streets in every angle, for a change, but I was beginning to bother. Always with the same dynamic, the same positions, their hands around the steering wheel. Emily looked out with eyes off the pigeon. Clutching the envelope that we had to deliver, but only God knows I want to would have to open it. She, not me. I am the one who has always wanted to stay out of things and not knowing anything. Unless you were at the level of gossip, of course. Why there, then, makes me laugh. Not like in these stories, the end of which is never seen.
found the number, I arranged the car in the usual place. Since when was I doing, I discovered that the disabled are very well distributed in the city.
The goalkeeper was a person of small stature. In uniform, shows how the building would be elegant and distinguished, with marble and glass, brass and carpets that, despite the rain, badly disguised the fact it was one of the many bogus cooperatives. Social cooperatives in the beginning, but then all ready to earn some money.
I had not the faintest idea how to even ask me. I've never been good at inventing bale even when I had to cover myself with my mother. Imagine now that this was a mere formality.
Posing as the children of a distant cousin, had requested information on Turri. Genetically, we know, the concierges are inclined to chat. Especially those of fine buildings, which are saturated with information on a certain slice of society and not even know them how do they stay.
pinched his mustache, in the right, be happy to be the protagonist in a drama not found. He spoke with an accent of Puglia, with those inflections dialect speakers remain just that for many sounds very open, but without significance.
But we understood everything. From the four "who c'amma ago '?" To the most difficult turns of phrase to tell us that our Turri Alessandro was killed in a car accident about fifteen years ago. Fell asleep, a malaise, not remember. He spoke as a report prepared by the road, as if by word of mouth instead of knowing it, had come to know the details directly from the documents.
And then retraced the entire ring, with its ups and downs. Until the turn into Viale Certosa, with its trees and its traffic lights, until Musocco.
Emily took the letter from the dashboard, stamping their feet on the floor of the car nervously. I was not aware of the proper functioning of the heating system, and the feet were freezing. I understood. But it was much easier to understand the technological differences that grow in three decades, on his part. He might as well stop. Not so much noise, but because they feared severe damage to the platform itself.
However, I do not seem appropriate to let them out. Just as it seemed to me not a case of going to a cemetery, especially in winter, with the sky that is lost in the asphalt, as well as the sunsets will drown in the sea and we do not distinguish the limit.
But if the sea, an optical effect of this kind can be studded with a thousand lovely and romantic adjectives, the city becomes almost macabre. Apart then from the crazy idea to try the tomb of Turri's letter and read the inscription of the old dead friend. If you want to do, easy to influence film for some reason or morality, I would not have followed.
I was in the car, the engine stopped and the needles of the speedometer in the rest position, both smoked and just leaving open the flap. I looked at the entrance gate and the streets are increasingly filled with lights and plates. They were coming to the race you are, the offices had already closed, and the last stragglers were hurrying to finish what was left. Like a mandatory snack to return to playing football with friends.
Emily was taking a lot of time. I had been sitting too long. I were being bedsores. Perhaps it would be better to go out, just to stretch their legs.
Leaning to the plate, I was immediately joined by a poor man asking for alms. Moving your fingers at me now blue, hissed as soon as the request for a cigarette. As the only source of heating is not too bad, I thought.
He turned, leaned back in turn the alpha.
"Seek the Turri you too?" He asked after a first puff.
"And how do you know?"
shook the strong filter between his lips, to crush it. It was a gesture that relate stadium, the fans of teams that are going to lose a cup.
"I heard the woman asks in his sentry box"
"So what? She starts to listen? And it's not my wife "
" change little. For years, I'm here to Major, and I wonder why only now there are people asking the Turri. In many years, even a flower ... "
" Maybe we remembered him alone now. " I was getting nervous, I was sour.
"You two, maybe. But the guys who came a month ago they were policemen, "he said as if nothing had happened. She had finished her cigarette, she was throwing away the filter, with a gesture of one who knows to fly away. The grabbed his arm, the butt and I almost fell on his trousers. I almost would have gone from catching fire.
"Now tell me what you know. Who was the Turri, how he died and so on. "
" Easy, like this. I do not eat, let alone speak. "
" Ok, now we go to dinner and see if he can find some ounce of strength to talk. "
I did sit in front, beside me. Emily came back with the bag still in hand, face down with two lines of sight to the jaw. She cried, but I did not want to know why. If I had said, well. Otherwise, flab. Robe of women who I barely knew.
Now there were many other things to worry about. I had found a track and I would not let him get away for no reason at all.
A short walk from the car, he noticed that there was this guy in his place. Her look was quite talkative. I returned the letter, which again rests in the wallet or the ALF.
"You're back and check out this here while I drive. Join us for dinner, then I'll explain, "I said from the open window, stretching his head out from tortoiseshell plate.
handed her a tissue. It did not seem decent to show himself so vulnerable.
would have been difficult. Very.