.
The bombing had begun long ago. By now the enemy was coming and kept coming back like every year the same date.
reddish lights, subliminal melodies, neon crazy, balls and Christmas decorations everywhere.
The City regurgitated images of every wall, panel, poster, screen. Thousands of remote-controlled eyes directed where it had been expected.
An intangible but omnipresent sense of slavery, began to permeate the mind of Fabio.
front of a window he saw the reflection. Behind him a dummy. Shoes, hat, jacket, even his sideburns were the same. It was exactly like that dummy.
were able to shape it so? He wondered in amazement. And he had not even noticed.
And to think that was sure to be an original type. They had convinced them of that as well?
But then ... They who? It was possible to blame someone?
After all, it was he who was dressed like that. He had decided to only buy those clothes, that without realizing it, had in fact become the uniforms.
It was not the fault of anyone but her ...
In the sleepless night, the source of inspiration, was slow to come, while the rain beat on the roof top floor of the bathroom.
This sound insistent, if not haunting, at first held back in if 'an element redundant with each passing minute, hour, carrying those who were listening, in a pleasant, almost every drop of water that slammed over his head, move the world that was out there, and carries it farther ...
But the rest of the house was even worse. Interminable silences, amplified by the echo of his footsteps in a room half empty.
Maybe that's why he decided to put the desk in the place less objectionable, but without getting too many questions about his work.
Here. Now she stood there, sitting by candlelight, between the sink and bidet, staring into the twilight, that revealed only the shapeless mass of glowing water.
Yet, closing his eyes, that concert over his head, made up of percussion, seemed to give him the peace he was looking for, and that his soul had found its place in the more strange, including a health and a light candle.
In the words as he tried to send on a sheet waiting for ink, he realized that before his eyes closed, flowed only images. From the morning news program, the posters on the road, until the film on TV in the evening, all around there were only icons. The words seemed to be the protagonists of this world, defeated by the dominance of views on other senses.
For a writer, as writer, in search of a vein, nothing remained to translate images into words. Perhaps it was the only way to prove that the same thing already seen, could be immortalized with the black letters on a white sheet, was even better than when it was just a fading picture in mind.
In the bathroom there were no distractions. Not a single color image. White was the dominant species, on a dark background paved.
In the realm of black and white, multicolored away from the noise, felt at ease.
front of the white paper knew that it would serve to describe the colors of crayons. simple words were enough black on a light background. Only these were the keys to enter the mind and find yourself the thousands of nuances that may not even exist anymore in reality. They were entering a new world, one for each individual, because everyone would have seen something different.
as witches in a spell, the words would have evoked images, sounds, scents, unique to each player.
There must have still been around someone who was reading!
They were his allies, the only ones who could understand what he was talking about, too, looking for that "different" that they could be distinguished from a homogenized world.
It was basically just find them. But where at this time of night?
Suddenly he remembered a place not far away where the devotees of the word, black and white, took turns in the pleasant evenings, perhaps looking for a place to escape from delirium mixed.
was a library.
open until late at night, allowed readers travelers looking for a refuge, and this similarity Fabio reminded on Christmas Eve, now imminent.
Upon entering immediately breathed air different. He felt the presence of millions of words written on the pages of those books, all piled on one another. And for a moment he felt the sensation of warmth of home.
While walking among the readers, with a smile without really knowing why, he noticed that there were many and people are still coming. The hope of finding a place to shelter from the world that was out there, seemed to have made.
Finally went to the cashier. But there, the anxiety began to grip again.
A crowd of readers, or assumed, huddled around a couple of wagging bundling Barbie dressed as Christmas, christmas break-even in that place, with ribbons, bells and shiny maps.
Looking good, noticed that most were not readers, but buyers took their ritual pre-Christmas buying jerky.
They were everywhere.
Anxiety took over, and for a moment Fabio decided to throw up.
overheard a conversation between an employee and busy between cash receipts, which a customer asked literary information. Maybe he was in a bookstore, he said.
- Listen, I wanted a novel, but not any novel, a novel ... different! I would know suggest?
The look of the counter with a credit card in his mouth and another in his hand became grim. Then he muttered:
- Yeah ... - he paused, - the ... gnorina, but different from what?!
The face of customer frowned, and became thoughtful. Perhaps in order to avoid conflict or to take it off the front, the cashier, and once experienced bookseller, came to her rescue.
- Why not take the last flight of Fabio?
Miss lit up and he agreed.
- Perfect incarta me please? And maybe if I make a sconticino ...
- Sure Miss! It takes something else? This year, the culture is sold by weight! If we do get to a pound a discount of ten per cent! - And softly concluded: - Volume I suggest some Russian ...
Fabio, he turned and saw something that upset him. Behind him, other customers were waiting in hand with all the same book. And that was recommended by the librarian in a loud voice to the customer.
We saw Quach hour before, a reflection at the window, and had the impression that all the readers in the queue, the mannequins were staring at him dazed. He put a hand to his mouth and a moment later, he vomited up a pile of books by Dan Brown as he tried to re shoves the door.
A bookseller in starting a branch situated in another city, where he said that he was going, the Dan Brown would sell so well tanned.
simply move the volumes in the dining area, along with the cats on the calendars.
- Are you ill? - Un'improvvida bartender improvvisatasi librarian, took his hand and accompanied him to a table of the adjacent Bar Li, along with a nice cup of tea, pulled out a pamphlet and put it in the hands of the patient client.
And so over to you, he found himself in his hands even the latest book by Fabio Volo. As another effort to hold back, the bartender foreign accent, insisting he explained
- Trust me. And 'The Cult of the moment. And then he understands us. I read that it is a "non-writer," essentially one of us, like me ... like you!
Fabio looked thrilled. Nice stuff to say to a writer with ambitions as a writer, he thought. Then, with book in hand, while the bartender finally returned to his job, he began to speak with him.
- Fabio ... Fabio, I tell you with my heart in my hand, Fabio Fabio .. but fuck you, go!
- Excuse me for disturbing you? -
A Nymph of rare beauty, soft voice and an intelligent look, as well as lively, at least in the eyes of young intoxicated, sat down beside him and took his hand and holding the book tight.
Kidnapped from that vision and touch, already no longer remembered what he was saying, and what they did there, hand in hand. She, approached him, looked into his eyes and took the book from his hands.
Finally, he smiled. Nonchalantly flipping through the pages of no writer, prepared to converse.
- My horoscope for today - shooting - said that "if you find a man, so man, to be enthusiastic about the latest book by Fabio Volo, you should not run away" !
Fabio, winced. Maybe it was the horoscope of the Mondadori?! He looked around, and finally looked into it. Mixed with the mouth by the compromise, and a hand on his heart, he found a way to utter a whisper
- Yes, of course, a lively book, nice ... and can not be denied, even successful.
The reader looked at him suspiciously.
- but I was not thrilled ... - resulted in a faint voice.
Fabio, feeling that opportunity vanish in his hands, took a deep breath, closed her eyes Wind ed'un blurted
- I've read all books Fabio Volo, from last to first, yes ... and I think the last one, precisely this, it will be because I read it first ... I do not know, the fact is that is what has left me more excited ... you know ...! I swear!
A cat mewed three times in the distance.
- I felt it! My horoscope could not be wrong. And then you feel that you are an educated man!
The two took her hand.
A couple of handsome young men and booksellers meanwhile, tried to warn Fabio from what must have been one of the Valkyries that roamed the library in the sultry evenings. But since inner wisps, could also happen outside the summer period. The young men booksellers were vaccinated, but occasionally some unwary customer was likely to end up in the network. And in fact, Fabio, had ears only for her.
The Valkyrie confided to him that he needed to be accompanied by a man of his undoubted culture, and dragged him around the library, when he tripped on a pile of books on air ass ending a table covered with texts Mantra to the brim, to the delight of labile Fabio.
- was hurt, miss? - He asked Fabio.
- No, no. Heck, there are growing piles of books everywhere! Even they had sown. To me this whole culture medium after a bit 'put forward. I need a little 'air.
Passing through the library, saw a good man at the counter, screaming as the fish at the local market.
- The Fabio Volo are over, but remained in the Den Braun offer!
The crowd jumped on the pile of Dan Brown, while the hard-working local librarian continued in the slogans:
- Do not worry, we're here to sell each culture day from nine to midnight ...!
And just as he was about to strike midnight, the crowd had not yet disposed of, as a bookseller Teutonic soul, drew the crowds outside on a pretext.
- last copy of the book Flight of Fabio! Who will I take it as a gift!
Someone claims to have heard screaming in the distance, now in the footsteps of Siegfried, which would have been necessary if it were also running up to Berlin ...
The crowd came out in pursuit, and the doors closed behind them, deft hands of a collector of commentaries of the past.
In the darkness illuminated by Christmas, two novel lovers roamed the streets of Verona, monitored by the cameras of the Mayor.
- Big Brother is watching over us, but ... 1984 - Fabio said to do the read.
- I also always look at him! - Valkyrie replied enthusiastically. - We own a lot of things in common!
- I always say the Mayor ... - mumbled a passerby who was angry with the world.
- What a Christmas atmosphere, that romantic colors, - she said, - why do not we kiss in front of the cameras to Piazza Erbe? Eh? Have we as Big Brother!
said than done, is the inert spupazzò Fabio did not react.
- What is it? - Follow her - not you like me?
- No, no - he said - are the cameras, lights ... Christmas!
She frowned.
- You are a freak. And do not even know your name ... and I've already kissed!
- But I really ... - Fabio replied.
- I'm off, hello.
said he looked around and left.
- My name is Fabio ... - yelled back. - How Fabio Volo ...
She turned. And he continued.
- Yes, I meant that, and so are the cameras I ail. As for Christmas lights, it's like being in Las Vegas! There are also Santa Claus hung windows, Holy Christ!
And no one will notice anything, and as if they were all ... natalizzati! It can not anymore!
She approached him.
- Fabio. Nice name. Perhaps I have to tell me what you're looking between the lines. You hate Las Vegas because you lost all your money in the game ... it also happened to my ex.
Here, we missed the ghost of the former. Fabio's eyebrows twitched in the form of a question mark. And she had not yet finished.
- But do not worry I do not want to marry mica! 's just that I'm in love at Christmas time ...
After all, the atmosphere of Christmas was not so bad, he said Fabio. Walking hand in hand with her, he realized that would not have spent Christmas alone this year.
Merit perhaps of Christmas, and maybe even Fabio Flight ... although he could not yet admit to.
He wanted to continue to take it to the world, but this Christmas, was convinced that he paused. This time, like everyone else, had other things to think ...
