Ponticelli, June 24 2010 hours 15:46
In a little 'will turn off every item, only trumbettella some good wishes ... then nothing more.
put to lie on the scooters, nennilli by dark faces. The last women, always tired and never hurried, leaving the field - the one I see, in prayer-and for an hour or more can not be . Only the youngest dare bar.
men assault the coffee hour, now the sofa, and for an hour or more will, finally, be sure to .
Anthem is heard. Around
just a dog, a flock. A pathetic
with broken shoes.
A drunken man who does not know more. About an hour
is shouting, " and 'nce it costs Lacreme' is life, worries, dreams and sleepless nights " m doing?
tightens the chest of a friend sighs, and pending jumps. And every bump is a trumpet blast and every crack of one thousand kisses and coffee.
"But there free kick" ... sound of chairs and on their feet. Unbeknownst
rises a cool breeze with him and whirls of litter and cigarette butts. None sgam . Because, finally, no one knows .
indifference I move too. At home before the end. Swallowed up by the expectation jerk ... and not even know .
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