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' AS IF IN TRENT ' years had not lived, VA '

E 'sti thirty years as if I had not lived leaves.
Irene went to the cafe for a short time and was one of those girls who would not have been able to give an age: it was small and skinny, very dark hair, two strands to sides fell off from the rest because of its continuous enrichment. What I discovered only later, when his attendance became almost daily. He worked at an insurance nearby and had recently moved to town.

E 'sti thirty years as if I had not lived, VA.
To say these words took a split second, just long enough to open the bag of sugar and turn the spoon in the coffee. A gesture that did so naturally as to believe that repeated many times during its days. As if nothing had turned to the pictures attached to the walls, watching with an expression that I did not understand then and there, I imagined not particularly appealing. Later, when, for some odd coincidences, I met her I knew very well that when he flung open his dark eyes and tilted his head to one side meant for her to remember something that had previously waived.

But then I knew we'd found to share the same apartment and that her face would soon be decipherable in every subtle expression. Neither imagined that coffee was a moment shared with her the whole morning in the kitchen, before anything else, before the day begins, before any other contact with people: at first disemi-consciousness when, abandoned by little bed, sleep, night-time images are still present and keep you from
concentrate on what you have around. A time when focus is not nothing, you are unable to do anything but automatic gestures and distracted, in absolute silence.

How to make coffee. Like sitting in the kitchen listening to the noise that produces the machine, like a little boat coming into port with the engine off.
Irene had gone silent, with his small boat off, that revealed an engine still overflowing with sounds and noises on the old crossing in rough seas and windy. I do not rushed, but still before us to live together when we met only at the cafe, our meetings have already purchased this tenuous nature, quiet, delicate that would characterize all of our morning: No feeling of having to speak to power, she could stay at the table, I closed the bar in an effort to grab the images that night until a few hours before had filled our heads and our bellies. Neither had ever felt the need to talk to another because of embarrassment, discomfort, guilt. We were both present and this gave us peace of mind does not necessarily have to be made explicit.

Then I found this very pleasant situation, but why come back from Milan, confused and pensive face day. I was back at the cafe in a trance, automatically, as you can throw in bed one night when it was drunk and was made very late: we slipped under the covers without clearly perceive the consistency, or the cloth, nor of his body.
Those days I felt so. Not surprising then if, when she went out with that particular sentence is not felt no shock, if not a strange tingling on the skin that I had learned over the years suggest: look more carefully.

In fact, I did. After a lot of coffee.