Or "pathetic Sonata in B minor" There are places for
to contain the immeasurable weight of chimeras uncinatesi their bowels immemorial, places consuntisi imaginations because of wind that have transformed the marble limbs, thin face up to draw a weary smile, hanging on the slide of the sky.
That was where I lived with my father. Budapest
That was that, sometimes, I still dream.
Ferentzi Rachel grew up in the Jewish milieu of the old town spicy, trusting in the dream, one of the plum-colored sofa in his house in the neighborhood of Erzsébetváros moving house and my grandmother's taste of moss - the old ... "Often I would be still as the Botanical Garden "repeated the white goddess of the pharmacopoeia (miraculous that infusions prepared!), octogenarian smile stale bread as hard.'s grandfather Lajos perched on a pedestal green leafed through the sky, lost in the search of telescopic observations of the first wife, in any weather. They said it was the crowds, the kind worn gossips Housing simulated but perhaps, with that, an even greater madness.
isolated figure in a vivisection time, permanent, oblivious as the shadows and cold spots in the stagnant Lovas street, ready to hide in the furrows of the sky month of November in Budapest (it would perhaps be more correct to say in it), Rachel's face was inscribed every blessed day at 7:30 in the steamy room of Zsolt window of the house.
Helias woke up the curtain - sadly hung on wooden hooks that his uncle József built during the lazy autumn litany - and she looked at him, accompanied by a sideways smile and set off by one of his wacky rhymes mattuttine " I fear that time is no longer hiding in closets, we have had enough of double bottoms. ".
The young Spit out your coffee mug in blue - which told its keel soft gourmet adventures of the sailor Jakab - and bellowing voice choked with a deathless bronchitis, "Rachel, did you eat electric eels?" The girl shrugged and shelled teeth also because his eyes were blackened heads from two matches, as just burned, "Helias, I have never said that you have a perfect oval for the tears!?", then disappeared into the river, leaving in its wake is dragged medusina lustful glances of boys who, directly to school, watched from behind the lamps lit just as the tropical fish hidden between intermittent marine arborescence. Helias pathological shyness when he had reached the acme look at her face, though you had the feeling that whatever the plans and the angle from which you look, the afferrabilità a single image would remain a substantial chimera, the point that, although he had brown hair, it happened more than once figurarsela brown like thunder half ago or light blonde like the blast of a horn at noon.
Desecration, this warning whenever posasse eyes on that creature, mixed consciousness last to participate in silent and unstoppable elision of its quality temporary, as the look became an official member to contribute to her metamorphosis and its change his obsessive.
was the month of March and the Danube, no longer wrapped in the scarf of the misty cold season, shone like a silver sword in the sheath of a soft and warm early spring.
Often, after closing time - Rachel worked in one of those coffee counters from lysis as the cuffs of a sad old railroad official so that the room itself looked like the lobby of the station of a country perpetually followed by a comma - the slender figure than he is nestled between the velvet sofas mirror and the vulgar, and lit a cigarette, looking forward already to the sense of gentle decline, that sort of defeat heroically conquered always captivates when her eyes rested on hers. Soon these visits became increasingly intense and, well, diligent to the point that, by virtue of poor clients who frequented the restaurant, Rachel gave the court no longer masked by Helias, and did so with all the devotion that may contain heart overflowing d 'a girl next to eighteen. A few months later, this votive cult, showed signs of fervent worship under the guise of a wide circle which had greatly burdened the body of the young. All hinting at a final consecration, by the notary of Heaven, and a subsequent plethora of small creatures and small braids shining.
This did not happen.
One morning (Rachel was the seventh month of pregnancy) Helias found a letter stuck between the marble paperweight and chemistry books that read something like this: "If one day I had to take me back, is that beauty come with me yet along the path, and that bloomed for which you then run (I know it will) not ashamed of the plant withered and corrupted by doubt, but now able to resist the seductions of the changing seasons. Have mercy on me and your son. Rachel "
goes without saying that the poor Helias fell into a state of prostration that lasted for a very long time, exacerbated by the feverish desire to be reunited with her desire to not leave him even when the balm of sleep, which eased his body emaciated but was nevertheless unable to give rest to the weary mind, flattered the sad and desperate boy.
Rachel saw everywhere.
Under the guise of a lady out of the butcher, dressed as a washerwoman, or of a stapler, overshadowed by the billboard advertised a play. Once mistook a young teenager with long hair for her!
finally resigned herself to mourning that early and took refuge in chess, checkers and work in the shop that carries out on behalf of his uncle József.
Years passed, and soon turn white with pain, severe liver problems and the absence of total and devastating that food intangible asset that moves our metabolism spiritual hope in something, anything, turned into a human wreck, which often happened to see it drift along the pathways of the ghetto, his face bathed in an aura of madness, why were few who spoke to him or greet a shy, fearful that she may have some hysterical reaction, finance violent.
One morning he sat in trams, counting the drops that tapped on the window and drumming his fingers on his bony knees lean (with the sort of degraded cabal that usually regulate the lives of neurasthenic and reign over those of fools) when he saw, on the sidewalk, a girl of about sixteen who was walking along the bridge bothering people, with the intent to sell some kind of crap disguised as a bunch of begonias.
He was like a sinking heart. He got off the tram and, aided by the shadows of the evening, slipped on the stairs leading to the river, holding the girl by the arm, then, having reached the embankment near the punched on below the left cheekbone by a subsequent shot on the right temple. What happened next is better to keep silent, just like to add that my father came home every morning with the newspaper under his arm and that the first page of the newspaper that went with him, narrated the terrible aggression, followed by the rape and killing, A young beggar, no document proving the identity but whose photo published startled my father who said: "Toh! If it were not for the bruises on his face it seems the small Ferentzi, the one that escaped many years ago , your mother and her were very friendly. "
sciarlselisé
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