Yesterday I phoned the clerk of a debt collection company on behalf of Sky. My girlfriend says that it is the month of September 2009.
I wonder why. I say that from April 4 of last year I left my house and there I have returned. Due to earthquake.
The decoder sky lies crushed under the weight of a wall collapsed.
Mutes. So I apologized and says he will do what I have said this to the proper authorities.
Then, thoughtful, asking me if now, after a year, everything is fine. He tells me to love my city, has had the good fortune to visit a couple of years ago. It is was fascinated. I remember in particular a paved stairs leading down from the Cathedral to the Basilica of Collemaggio. And I
salt lump in the throat. I tell her that I lived there. She fell silent again. Then he asked me to tell what is my city now. And I do.
The story of the old garrison. The story that I can not go to my house whenever I want. The story, however, the thieves go there undisturbed. The story of the buildings left there to die. The story of the money that we do not have to rebuild. And there are not any help for us to survive. The story, from July 1, will return to pay taxes and contributions, even if we do not work. The story that we will pay the the. There and mortgages on destroyed homes. It will share regular payments on loans. Even for those who have nothing.
That, in July, an earthquake with a gross salary of € 2000 will see payroll of € 734 net pay. That not only come back to pay taxes, but will return immediately all those not paid by April 6. That the state does not pay the homeless people who manage themselves well twenty-seven thousand, even that small contribution of 200 Euros per month which should help them pay rent. That rents have tripled. Without any control.
What I pay in a village of five hundred souls, as Bertolaso \u200b\u200bpaid for an apartment in Via Giulia in Rome. I can hear her breathing heavily. The talk of the new neighborhoods built at a price of luxury homes. The life story of the people living there. As in hives without a soul. Without even a newspaper or a bar. The story of the elderly who have been uprooted from their land
. Miles and miles away. The story of the professionals who have left. Enrollment in secondary schools in sharp decline. The story of a dying city.
And she answered, her voice trembling. "It is possible that you do not know any of this. You can not stay that way. Call the television journalists. You tell him. Call the press. They have to write it."
They do not write you do turn
I wonder why. I say that from April 4 of last year I left my house and there I have returned. Due to earthquake.
The decoder sky lies crushed under the weight of a wall collapsed.
Mutes. So I apologized and says he will do what I have said this to the proper authorities.
Then, thoughtful, asking me if now, after a year, everything is fine. He tells me to love my city, has had the good fortune to visit a couple of years ago. It is was fascinated. I remember in particular a paved stairs leading down from the Cathedral to the Basilica of Collemaggio. And I
salt lump in the throat. I tell her that I lived there. She fell silent again. Then he asked me to tell what is my city now. And I do.
The story of the old garrison. The story that I can not go to my house whenever I want. The story, however, the thieves go there undisturbed. The story of the buildings left there to die. The story of the money that we do not have to rebuild. And there are not any help for us to survive. The story, from July 1, will return to pay taxes and contributions, even if we do not work. The story that we will pay the the. There and mortgages on destroyed homes. It will share regular payments on loans. Even for those who have nothing.
That, in July, an earthquake with a gross salary of € 2000 will see payroll of € 734 net pay. That not only come back to pay taxes, but will return immediately all those not paid by April 6. That the state does not pay the homeless people who manage themselves well twenty-seven thousand, even that small contribution of 200 Euros per month which should help them pay rent. That rents have tripled. Without any control.
What I pay in a village of five hundred souls, as Bertolaso \u200b\u200bpaid for an apartment in Via Giulia in Rome. I can hear her breathing heavily. The talk of the new neighborhoods built at a price of luxury homes. The life story of the people living there. As in hives without a soul. Without even a newspaper or a bar. The story of the elderly who have been uprooted from their land
. Miles and miles away. The story of the professionals who have left. Enrollment in secondary schools in sharp decline. The story of a dying city.
And she answered, her voice trembling. "It is possible that you do not know any of this. You can not stay that way. Call the television journalists. You tell him. Call the press. They have to write it."
They do not write you do turn
by: Marc-
Marni Mazzavillani 
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