Section Amarcord. Another short story I wrote in 2004.
"Like a teenager who was expecting to come out to my stand on the furniture and see things from another perspective."
"But you did it for real?".
"Yes. See, it's more or less the same thing. I am posting out of context and physically look at it. Before I watched my private world, now I look at others. I try to capture the individual and then the whole mood, the affective tone of the context. I enjoy a lot, because many times then I'm wrong. I let myself be convinced by a feeling that at that moment it seems the predominant and consequently all subsequent interpretations are unpacked. But I do not care that much, I know this risk. What really interests me is to change perspective, things and people return to their truth more true: poetry. "
She looks at me sideways and from 'the grace sip of his pint. A group of friends sitting at a table not far from our bursts into laughter. He is left with a little 'foam on the upper lip. I pass a napkin. It can be cleaned. He shakes his head.
"You're too idealistic ... the world goes' elsewhere Mauri! Look around ... you think someone is making speeches at this time similar to ours or that you are making the poem? ".
I start to turn around, but mention only the movement contenting myself mentally to recognize the context of a pub crawling with people. I watch the drops oozing from his mouth quickly emptied. Place your elbows on the wood, I am reaching out for his half of the table and whispered vehemently
"You know what would come out from here ... a book of poems! But this is not the point. And do not think I'm an idealist, at least not too much. I'm just saying that there is something more beautiful and interesting people. "
A girl asks us if we can take away a bit 'of things from the table. Move your arms in front of our eyes slowly as to not wanting to disturb the conversation. We stop for easy operation even though it actually seems to increase his own, although mild discomfort. It 's very nice. He notices that I'm watching, smiling at me. Smiled a reply, but I feel the eyes of Claudius on the trunk and immediately our brief and intense love story.
"Well, yes this one is interesting ..." - pointing to the girl tells me that in the meantime has moved away.
smile.
"What do you mean, are we going?".
"Yes, yes, it's late."
As we head towards The case cast a glance at the people in the room. Many jokes, some toast. A couple is sitting silent and sad in a corner. The bartender prepares a cocktail with two friends in a leather jacket, look hard and cigarette in hand. Join a small group of friends, all full, there is no place. The table that we just left is too small for them.
My ex girlfriend "serves a beer to a man sitting alone.
return to the small line that separates us from the case and make eye contact with Claudio. I was watching. I smile in my heart. I wonder what poem I wrote on him.
No comments:
Post a Comment