The thick dense rain fell over the castle. From the room, beyond the tents in heavy satin, I could hear the echo. As rang again, after midnight, the voices of visitors intent on some kind of conversation.
The yellow curtain was still there in the parking lot, next to my car. Almost in a puddle of water.
The wind whistled. The rain poured down. And the cries of the devil that night, tore the air and sailed across the ridge of the Maritime Alps at the turn of furious lightning.
He came out the next morning, under the drops that seemed crystal, a boy about twenty. Not tall, muscular, not at first sight. The fresh face and a pierced earlobe. The baggy pants and made him look like an elf Straddle smiling.
went down the hall dining room for breakfast. The air smelled of coffee and toast. A raspy voice came from the kitchen. The boy had materialized right there before my eyes. With vivid and sparkling eyes and then smiled a greeting. It was not Italian. He joked and laughed with Paul. They spoke of climbing, of degrees.
Beside him, his friend, whose appearance was even more strange. Light eyes, a goatee, a big nose ring. He, however, unlike the fairy smiling, she slept in the van. Participated in an animated discourse.
Their voices were cheerful and pleasant, warm. A good awakening. Hands me a box of chocolates. Even these are accompanied by a friendly smile. " From Belgium," said the elf.
almost torn smiles and I took one. I put in my mouth and I noticed their eyes on me, as if waiting for a response ...
sacred " Mmm .. veeery good .. deliciousss "I said with his mouth full, and a loud laugh, smug, filled the room. Where
had left the elf and his friend? We do not know .. but they were nice and transmit serenity.
After breakfast, while I was busy putting the cups in the sink, Paul crossed in the kitchen. The goblin in the room, sat on the chair and made of inhalations with a strange gimmick that spewed steam. The scene was strange and when I thought he had a cold.
" He has 22 years .. the boy travels around 8a 8b "Paul said softly, so as not to be heard by other guests of the house ... I tried to respond with a wave of great admiration, but Paul stopped me and went" hats, there gives in, puts us all .... is sick of (...) ... this dies at 45 ".
The words, exclamations, all ... I get stuck in the back of the throat. The dining room
the elf spoke with his friend and smiled ...
0 comments:
Post a Comment