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.
