The day broke with her, Malena felt his heart-rending. Does not relate exactly to the chest pain, choking or crying in the middle: it was the literal sense that small cracks were opening everywhere and the heart was divided into thousands of parts that will soon be classified into useful and useless. All those memories must now separate them: between those included and what not, which thereafter would cause pain and no, and definitely forget that it was better not to spend hours crying stiff penalty. The promises at the airport in the trash rides around the world away; shake hands, throw, give a kiss ... kiss ... kiss ... sweet lips ... in the trash.
What good is love? It serves no purpose. It is a capitalist invention for people to spend money on Valentine's Day cards, flowers, boxes of chocolates, deodorants, air travel, wedding dresses. And then? All away.
Mad with grief, or simply crazy, Malena walked around town for comfort but the imposing buildings, streets and lights chaotic hell did not help. In the end, between the deep darkness, saw the emergence of a marquee lit with hope and great boldly announcing "Sleep
fifty years." When placed inside the cryogenic chamber, his last thought was for Antonio. Another memory: matted hair waving in the wind, clean face and smile overwhelming. ***
was not so wrong ... But it was cold and the light was too intense. Blinked. It seemed that if that actually was alive, to be sure you take a hand in the other and felt his own skin, soft. Then he recalled, fifty years. Long enough for him to have died. The most effective remedy for not thinking every day, every minute, every moment ... What will become of him? But what had become of him? Malena
discovered in some old photos file: happy, with a mustache Leninist kind features a woman and two children. It was easier that way. Was no longer present in the renovated city. It was impossible to go look again face wet with tears to the door as usual to beg him to return. It was impossible to wait forever, because never again could not come to his side, or sleeping at his side ... Impossible. Malena
could continue with his life. But the memories, insistent, the chase: he was no longer there, but she remembered every block, for example, that in that exact location of the city in those days was called the pirate ship, and a few blocks from the bar where he ate breakfast there every day and opposite the square, the field that had run and beyond where one day the happiest day of his life he had known for over fifty years. She wondered to herself incessantly: What if ...?
to see if posting this, I stop being Malena. Not very prepared, but did not want it either Fixed.
Aur Revoir!
