Invocation For Debuts

The occasion of the form 19 ^ - Maelstrom


Eriberto Perreira de Bassos had a beautiful walking stick, with the handle tapered silver rod on a cedar liscissimo. It was not a man who made compromises. That rocked the relatives, was one who loved the idea of \u200b\u200bmaking himself alone. Every morning, day after day, putting on the dress usually modest, elegant and far from his broad-brimmed hat, and then gave a subsidiary onion hanging from the vest and hit the road. Still the same route to the lagoon Faro. A walk in the summer, in those hours of dawn that gave the ultimate cool and bike in the winter. He did not have any kind of affectation or vanity, perhaps the only was to look at all the people with whom he happened to interact, in the eyes, at least for a moment, during his day. Arrived at the marina in the lagoon after a half hour drive shipped, the two secretaries greeted with a friendly smile, resting his hat and then went out to give account. He counted the boats, her boats out for the day fishing, but the census with the greed of those who want to get rich at any cost, simply by the attention of those who wanted things to work the best. In principle, we would say today. Of its seven large sailing boats, had the account at least five should be out every day between the waves of the Atlantic. Of these, always thinking the worst, at least three were fall pregnant "peixe". If they were tuna were octopus, turtles and sharks. Different in nature or genre. With this faithful methodical, business almost always ended up going well. There was, then, the vision of Eriberto brother, Jose. He had climbed most of the first steps of the political hierarchy of the Algarve, Portugal then. Its laws on trade in fish, then they gave place to the economy of the town and Eriberto, which also often had not thought of as his brother, he was grateful for this. Mainly God At least two mornings a week, even ten minutes before he got up and went to "La Fe" to thank him on His way: a few coins in the offering box, a fast and a sign of the cross bow. That's it.
In the late afternoon, then came home Eriberto on the same path. Stop at the tavern of "Dois bois, drinking fast and came home. There was his two daughters waiting for him. The largest Rose was sixteen, the smallest Lita who had 12. His wife Matilda was gone from the day it came to light. A small black sgorbietto black, with two lights for eyes. They felt a bump and highly efficient housekeeper who had already been in the service, someone said "all directions", his brother Jose. That was 23 years Eriberto and had been dead for five. In Faro had dedicated a monument to José Bento de Bassos Perreira, right in the central square. That was a reference to Eriberto, nell'incedere morning from work.
was a frugal life, despite the considerable disposable income, perhaps sparing a life of pleasure for Eriberto, but full of small satisfactions. Giving work to more than fifty people was one of those, the sight of their daughters grow, the absence of the mother, but according to his moral standards it was another. He did everything himself, now well over twenty years before. A loan from the bank, the first sailing vessel on which he had sweated and then a second and third in the early years. Until you get to a real flotilla, in subsequent decades.
Sometimes then, on rare occasions that you went to school, the daughters of wealthy Eriberto followed their "daddy" to the lagoon. The largest and strong-willed Rose to lend a hand to the secretaries, the smallest Lita to play on the docks, taking care not to fall into the water muddy. Barefoot, with his legs dangling towards the gleaming mirror, Lita fantasized about traveling and leaders, of sailing ships swollen with wind and brave pirates Filibusta. Just as in the tales of Women's Madeira, their housekeeper who held good in the afternoon with imaginary stories of these adventures, on hold the return of Eriberto. An attempt to Lita that if he had ever taken on Rosa sortie any effect for a while '. At sixteen, in a slender body and well done, the already burning fire of passion healthier and more natural, a fire that was far off from the muscular arms of his contemporaries, the hub of one of the sixteen vessels in the fleet Perreira de Bassos.
Lita had discovered this secret love of his sister by chance, among the reeds on the edge of the lagoon, in a calm afternoon in summer. While Caracalla, dreaming of pirates and plumed hats, had heard the panting of his sister, and moving a group of reeds taller than her, had seen surrounded by quell'adolescente arms too man, who covered her with his body. He had spied
little understanding of that convulsive movement, flattened like a small and harmless wild animal in the bush. He had seen the boy's agile body swaying convulsively between his sister's legs in a rhythm that coincides had begun to upset without a reason. Finally, among the moans of the two teenagers had watched the face of the young cabin boy. Her green eyes like the water of the lagoon, its perfect feature nell'abbronzatura liscissima of his skin. She had seen him, he had studied how to be different from what he had known before, confused voices of the fishermen in the woods of his father, almost all older him. This time his eyes had settled there as eye falling on the fruit that slowly matures and acquires the color of life, flowing thick and spurts, like milk of life. He had made his body, had made his face, in the imagination of stories of women and Madeira had come to see it decorated with a thousand male earrings and pendants with pirate hat and a knife between his teeth, the last assault galleon with the effigy of Navarra.
saw him get dressed quickly, her face looked sweaty and happy look of his sister, and a cloud seemed to want to give breath to the image of whiteness, a temporary rifolo of coolness. Just to the time of a last kiss on his feet, before Regards and last embrace. This was the day that Lita, the second daughter of master Eriberto, the bank knew of carnal love, what he learned there in ragged whispers of the villagers to the passage of his housekeeper and the sigh of the night sister in her nightgown.
discovery was a small and light as a scent that the wind takes you away. Effluvium dynamic self-awareness that is taken and preserved for the future. That man's face went into the belly of his young girl, disposing stretched in the area between the belly and heart, where you have, and often poorly guarded expected, a love of inexperienced young girl.
A face that, from that day, the company held in the hottest nights of summer long, hot and sunny in the play through the streets of Faro, in the glittering covet the piers in the lagoon. A face and a body that came in, discovering unexplored recesses of his young soul. Lita
So the little woman who struggles to be in the physical, he began to follow his father more and more often in summer evenings without a school, in the frantic days of fishing more fruitful in the slower hours of waiting for the return of sailing ships and fish.
Eriberto was pleasantly surprised by the interest of second-alarm for that job as men and they have dreamed for her a future of rich businesswoman, because the first child, too accustomed to lace, could not that make a woman give her husband.
Lita came with his father in the morning, hoping to touch the hub of the ship that day and even a break did not happen, we lined up ready on the pier to wait for the return. She saw, with the eyes of his imagination, agile and proportionate winches move on, give the command to the older crew, control, manage and dispose of that god as the only profitable surf. Fantasies of teenagers in the first jolts of his heart.
I discovered day by day more beautiful in the morning was back among the scent of fresh fish and the brutal force of sailors watched the elastic and very strong in downloading overflowing coffers of small tuna and sharks and blue sharks, he saw him puff of a different rhythm than the reeds, spiandone every feature from the god of the sea.
had so taken to repeat his name. In the heart and mind, to spell with her voice, as if it were a gift from God, in moments of absolute solitude.
The biggest thrill for her was the day that the improvident hub, jumping off the bridge of the vessel, always the same, he walked toward her, smiled, recognizing its attention and, just as an adult with a child, with the same heart, the same generosity, put his hand smiling and soaked in three tiny pink crabs. Lita closed fist, and blushing, speechless, ran away to look at his gift. Three small hermit crabs from the rough shell that is writhing in search of water in the palm of that little girl.
was the most beautiful gift she had ever received, between the carnal opulence of the father in the most important anniversaries, including detailed gifts for family friends. Those notables of the province, whose ears have already arrived the sounds itchy hidden intrigues.
It happened, in fact, regularly, that Rosa and the young sailor meet less and less attentive to forms, times and places. Far from the eyes of Lita disinterested, but so close to the usual places where maids and rulers of different nature and arrangement of the opposite sex, they met with their lovers and boyfriends. And the rumor, those that disturb the arrangement of the human soul and making you forget that you wrap similar to a personal past, traveling as it is known that decision when they are unhealthy, there's always where it should not come. For the ears of "friends" that the sediment basking in that there is a dark, we play with the whispers in the occasions of gathering more hypocritical and then turn to those directly affected. But even when the game has lost all interest.
The voice of love, soiled from mouth to mouth, from whisper to whisper, soon came to master Eriberto, pragmatic man, but impetuous, intelligent but visceral. That morning in late summer
Eriberto Perreira de Bassos rose half an hour before, having ordered the delivery of maintenance for one of its vessels, from the day before. He went out in the usual way, he walked to the lagoon, greeted the secretary, he counted the vessels and then vanished. He waited for hours in the reeds with his walking stick-handled silver. And finally he saw.
Although most incredible and he was mocking what he saw under the sun of the Algarve, in a tiny clearing where a pine gave a good shade. He saw two teenagers who loved each other, which were filled with deep and long kisses, hugs huddled in endless looks thick as honey. He could not see two inexperienced boys who gave their bodies, as a gift only really important in an age that unawareness can lead to painful joints scornful pride, while in the two turns into a physical love that dirt was not even the grass in her hair or sweat descending abundant on the back of him. Eriberto
Padron, blinded by whispers, driven mad by the wrong sense of morality led to violence by the father's jealousy unprepared for all that, but saw his cabin boy who abused their daughter the same age. He saw his betrayal of the moral coward saw the kidnapping of his older children, so morally innocent. He saw all black as possible, when that color had already gobbled up all the other nuances love that color starting to get into hatred. He saw what his instincts allowed him to see insane.
He acted, therefore, as a man betrayed and hurt in his dearest affections.
knocked the strength of mule kicks, with the cedar of his staff. On the back. Once, twice, thrice. He lifted the boy's weight to her hair, oblivious to the shouts and cries of children that clung to the forearms.
dragged the young man, thrusts, then kicked to the main square in Faro. Here the sailor on his knees bloody face, back and knees, and then broke his stick, knocking one last time on those Terga tortured. He did not hear the tears its hub regressed child, slipping for daring young man's true. Strangled her to ask for forgiveness from the last blow was lost in the swarm of people who had knot soon, but no one dared to stop the hand of a father who went on strike a generous handful.
No one dared, because everyone knew. They knew that offense to the honor of a man who gave food to whole families, a righteous man, right. That was not compromised. That does not basked in their relatives in high places, but under the monument dedicated to them, in a fit of rage typical of the meek, he instinctively thought to wash the shame and insult to the work of father without a wife, a proud man who looked straight at me. Everyone knew, yes. But no one knew or wanted to express that love will inevitably become a disgrace for a man who could not understand. The last football
Eriberto Perreira de Bassos waged the panting alongside youngster bites. Then he went picking his broad-brimmed hat and wiping the dust from her face drenched with the forearm sore from so much beating. People began to flow, while the boy was left lying, crying. Like a child. Like what it was.
like a man from the instincts, from thinking of the young, the agitation of the Child. Unable to react bruised, but able to have unknowing. Owning a woman who was too "daughter" to be such.

remained on the corner that his house was one of the many streets that flowed into the square, a small figure in the head shaking, eyes too big and the small fists clenched. A pretty girl of twelve, now incapable before such a slaughter, to dream of sailing ships, pirates and ladies in love. Unable to see that being returned to its peers, the hero of her dreams, the filibuster of his boarding of a young girl. Unable also plan to repeat his name: "Amancio", adorned in that term of endearment that emerged from a boyish love: "A-man-us-to". He stood alone then
watching his hero laid low, unfairly humiliated, mortified soul before the body. There would be no more for her dreams of "swashbuckling" fantastic journeys face fierce and artificially aged Amancio. He once was fearless pirate captain without blemish, without a doubt the leader. Now crying by his peers, in dirt, his face bruised and his back. Would remain for Lita, second daughter of a man too proud in its certainties, only Amoretti and unhealthy infatuation. Looking for a hero in the face of his first kiss, a pirate in the first few years after lovemaking secrets, a leader in her two husbands.
no doubt about the nature of man as a poor such, the lover as an object of desire, love "real" as drive control. Had the charming face of her first husband, Basque, or the last heavy prowess. The sea captain he would give Andalusian third name, Balaidos.
That day in late summer in the Algarve, between the silent glances of the villagers, under the monument to his uncle, the little Perreira de Estrela Bassos prepared to become a woman with diverted instincts. Able to hold one thousand men, even one incapable of Amarna, without having to imagine the face in the dust, begging forgiveness in the midst of tears as a child. There would be no male figure in a position to raise spirit, to make her feel companion of a hero, a female leader. His legacy, one that took shape in the coming years when his father died, in addition to large capital shared with his sister and an unhealthy freedom was quell'incapacità to see, to accept a partner as a "hero" of that novel dyes strong that had become his life.
There would always be a stick in her soaring, which drops hissing on the back of every potential love. How hiss of thin wood, which splits the air very fast, which becomes whistle and does not allow you any peace. Any emotional abandonment that would lead to true love.

When the "Forat Vermell" that April night, Estrela Balaidos had rested his eyes on Esteban Labruna, before they can cast his eye over the depraved red brick wall, a shiver went up from the legs, through the shaped thighs. The feature of the young architect, his long-limbed prowess, his moves from a cardboard hero, his attitude to be leader of anything, had impressed so much to be wished away, explaining that passion out to a name that was not chosen at random and that came out from inside, from a similarity of skills and features that announced both a culmination of dusty flogging. Amancio. "A-man-us-to".
A name that was a conscious mocked him, of his being; and a bitter note their inability to accept love for what it is. A dream of heroes, captains and pirates, no matter the reality. I just do not care.

Esteban Labruna was, unaware. Like a child playing in the street, heedless of cars whizzing, crouched on her toy. Invisible to the eye of the driver, to self-love, stressing his name was "Amancio", experiencing this bizarre game untamed filly, distracted by his master. Fragile, because leaning on his executioner, as prey to predator. Yet peaceful, as if her feel less heavy and more complex, like a blossoming flower, that's guaranteed confidence in the woman who had long since begun to love. For the first time in his life.
His reason and admit he had arms that could stretch on Estrela, the object of his love, but had deep roots that go down down in search of the naive nature of his feelings. Because of his young heart now pulsating in this strange and strong, because one of the many women who had owned her own, all of which was the rough, he had taken to holding it in one hand down to your heart.
was the question that all men do when they love you so much for the first time and this feeling touches you in more mature, more questions and non-response, sounds like enough, but impetuous and esondanti.
The answer it gave was in the waivers. In all those times that his heart had stopped on the threshold of a second, a gallant third exit, the door to open doors, feminine on the last syllable of a word as simple as "I love you ', on the fear that had always had. No longer master of himself. His flexible body, its brilliant and dissolute life that he preferred to curl up so much land needs to make it unreliable for every noble sentiment.
So as soon as it was voted to the unconditional protection of his master, from the moment this selfishness was trembling began to crumble, the gates of his perceptions were wide open and sticks his heart began to throb. Don's friendship towards infinite happiness, livid hatred towards a silver cross pendant, love for Estrela, whose image on the heights of his feeling it is now the clouds with new hope. This is unique emotions
voted impetuous vortex, stretching the spokes of their order so long ago, finding their "eye" final in the way we live now. E 'as a really splendid "maelstrom" in reverse, where peace and happiness are found only in the tangle of circular waves and driving, when the sea is calm around you speaks only of suffering, fear and mediocrity. Fear to hear. Fear of living.
These emotions that were in the ropes of each, though each had the strength to face a journey of such hardship and courage, seemingly pointless. Because only those who has long been private, so can indulge in the joy of conscious desire, and find a way of getting to their sacrifices.

The sense of the sacrifices of Estrela, I gave that guy that was sleeping next door. A Amancio he knew when he was beaten up again, who knew how to react to their mistakes as a youth and a man, now that fate had requested it, and give reasons. Who could collect the blows of his stick and hissing that disrupt the parched certainties of his deviant femininity. The sense of the sacrifices
Esteban was instead hidden in the force young and clean and that now pervades seemed able, in the heart of quell'ennesima night of love and passion, to plan for the unexpected genius salvations that destiny had given him, and protections for the love that had never really expected to live. An overwhelming love, lived with a young heart that had never spent before.

Two bodies came together on those nights, and they were two bodies with one soul, too long divided.

Timex Expedition T45581 Manual

The occasion of the form 18 ^ - Three-wire and two days


"Please. Meanwhile these you put them in his pocket ... "He Estrela Esteban with fierce wit, while he left the room Antoni.
"At least, if it happens again this evening to make the bull, do not bring me here illnesses" The young architect found himself in the hands of the two flesh-colored condoms and receiving looked so bad as to make them doubt for a moment. Have not sold.
"Well ... Do not thank me? Barcelona is full of syphilis, do not you know? "He'd then smile with a strange light in his eyes
" But get out! "He reacted Labruna retracing the hallway toward the kitchen. She had left behind.
"Have you thought about what to tell me?" We were sitting opposite one another. On the table the remains of dinner.
"I did not think Estrela. I have no thoughts other than that of my master "
" Your grandfather? Your grandfather is doing well. Me and you we're going to feel bad. Very bad, if not tell me "The hair of blacks Portuguese girl, raised on the neck gave a thrill to Esteban. Even at that time.
"I'd give you a slap" Esteban
clenched teeth "You lack the courage to beat a woman. Not everyone's cup Amancio ... But do not waste time. Talk. "
The young man poured a glass of water and if he drank greedily, a trickle down the sides of his mouth. The rancid smoke of "Forat Vermell", the escape, the shock in the room had Antoni developed a thirst incomprehensible. Not cerveza, of water. Pure and simple. He drank a second time. But only to gain time.
Estrela, open legs on the chair, posing in lascivious long arms, lit a cigarette and puffed in the kitchen, then stretched his long neck and looked sideways at theatrically.
"So?" Broke out after a few seconds of silence.
"So my grandfather, as you call it, is Antoni Gaudi" Esteban went thirsty.
Estrela laughed exaggeratedly, mind you was taking a cigarette to his lips and the laughter died down in convulsive sobs hilarious.
"If it makes you laugh Estrelita ... Maybe not even know who is"
"Yeah, I'm just a fucking good of the Algarve and the husband puts the horns "He smiled again, before continuing:" Waking bull, the whole town knows who is the man ... I do too, but I thought it was just a little smarter "
and began to laugh at his laughter over the top, trampling the word about the "cute" is lit by scratching and sensual expression.
"Bitch"
"Continue Amancio"
"He is not well. There are currently able to continue the work to the yard ... "
" Well, do cure "He added, spreading his arms, before switching off his cigarette into the pot.
"It's not so easy ... Don Gaudi is not an ordinary person" He sighed.
"Yes, seeing the mess that is leading to"
"I do not know anything about these things"
"I understand that everything costs a lot of money, Amancio. Too much money. Things too big and too expensive ever hide something bad ... This I know. And remember that you're my home "
" I remember Estrelita, do not worry "
" Continue "
" Just because the construction costs and do my master's in charge, she could not afford to become what it has become just ... if they could not afford " Esteban diverted his eyes behind the girl.
"See - Estrela interrupted him, by purchasing a more graceful pose on the chair - that's what I said. What can prevent a retreat to old or even to stop for medical treatment? What prevents them? Having to put together four stones? "
" You're cursing "
" You blaspheme, swear ... idiot priests who make horrible things for God and if I forget now, just put their first stones. Blasphemy even your grandfather "
" Reasons as a fishmonger "Esteban's tone became aggressive. Estrela
to anger took a cup from the table and flung on the ground in a gesture strangely hysterical. He lost his humor in a minute.
"Fishmongers yes, that's me, but what are you? ... Are you attached to your master's pant like a crab. What made him so important for you? Bull .. Tell me, what did he do? It made you rich? We opened the doors of some brothel? Well, what you could do it alone ... I know that some young ladies with dudes like you apply tariffs halved ... "
Esteban with a quick gesture he tried to climb over the table to reach Estrela. This woman of a bucolic beauty, green-eyed lizard like skin, language and metaphors that had become a tavern, dodged the tackle and began to laugh out loud when his "Amancio" ruined to the ground, dragging plates, bottles and cutlery.
She put her foot down to keep him on the shoulder as he trudged wounded pride, more than in the body.
"Look - he said the slower beat of rice - you are not even able to grab a woman and want to save an old man. What an asshole "Then he held out his hand and helped her up.
He sat down again exactly where it was, awkwardly trying to groom his pants. Then, once comfortable ... "Don Gaudi is a symbol. His genius he is ... You .. You do not even know that heart beats in the city where you live .. "
" I do not care in the city where I live. A city that is another. I've never been the same for more than three years. Barcelona is the same as Porto, Bilbao, Marseille ... It is the people - his tone had become more subdued, almost meditative - that's strange people. For them, after one minute you are no longer a stranger, but after years remains always the last arrived are all good ... Then off to find God in churches, in books and pretend and are false. How do you "
" And that's why you allow the first passing "He replied, cutting the young architect.
"I allow myself eh ... You know nothing Amancio, You are nothing. You're just an arrogant son of a father who does not know what to do with his life. Think you're the center of the world only because the "Forat Vermell" will open wide the doors. You think you're somebody because you're young and beautiful and rich ... "
" I am not rich, at least not more "
" Never mind, you act like this .... "He smiled the woman.
"Well, I do not think you are you getting hurt first. Secondly, where I am, there you were you too. I met you there. Estrelita Or do not you remember? "
" .. And you're too good with words. But you came to me. A call for help "
" It 's the only place that I occurred. I do not know why "
" I do not care why. Now you're there and I'll help you "She looked at him with an air of disdain.
"You do not have"
"No, of course not. Idiot - became serious -. It 'not just because you are not hunting. To you and the old ... A closer look should call the Carabineros, so your grandfather would stop the work on the horror. "
"The Carabineros are not a problem," she added thoughtfully Esteban.
"Oh no? And who have you and he stepped on the foot? A few military? "Rise briefly
" No, the curia ... They do not like what has become Antoni Gaudi for the people of Barcelona
"You're a stupid Amancio. You put yourself against the worst "
" I have not made against anybody, "
" Priests ... One more reason why bull give you a hand. But you have to be at my own rules, this is the home of my husband. He will not return for another month and then, hopefully, we will have solved this problem. "
"Thank Estrela" The Esteban whispered the other end of the table
"Can you debt relief. I'm sure "She mentioned her thoughtful, mind bent down to pick up cutlery and crockery. "Meanwhile, I'll take care of your master and you will follow my rules. Meanwhile, give me out here. My government should not return before the arrival of my husband. You give me help at home, when you're not at work. I do not want to be your servant. You are a nobody to me. Did you clear this? "
" Yes, I understand "
" Well, it starts right here. With this disaster that you've done. " And together they began to clear up the big room of the kitchen.
It was almost dawn, when the two young men, exhausted, slipped between the sheets of the thalamus, without giving up another hour of love, in the dim light filtering through the blinds, in looks and in strings and melt.
"You do not know what risks," he whispered Esteban agile and damp.
"Shut up" I kissed her, with all the flavor of his life that flowed in a symbolic blow.

"He is my husband only on paper" The Estrela said, looking at the ceiling the next morning, as if thinking aloud, in the quiet buzz that came from the street, muffled by the rise.
Esteban had judged, correctly, that being seen too soon to the site, would have aroused some suspicion, so she lingered on the skin of Estrela and had waited until late morning.
"He took with him because I'm young and like to think of finding a warm bed when she gets home, but it always comes back less often and more rarely touches me please him. I think her fans are not presented as me ... So I do not run the risk of being out of the house. At least for now. "
"But you accept this situation. According to me why you like ... You get your own business "Esteban was filmed shooting while he argued, as to kiss her. She was portrayed with a fit of annoyance.
"Yes, I do my own business"
"What's happening now? Did you hurt? "
" No, I thought about your grandfather ... This morning I go out, I'm going to buy some time, "said thoughtful
Tempe eh ... Good idea. Maybe help him to herself, you should also buy the paintings, however, " He Esteban naive.
"No, I did not think of the canvas, not just through my mind. I do these things-Estrela's eyes had become more moist and glistening in profile - I do not understand anything. But I think ... I think he will decide what to do and how to do something. Well ... Did you see it? What did he do with that pot. I've never seen anything like this "
" scare you? "
" No, I do not restless. Perhaps it annoys me. It 'something I do not understand. Yesterday, after seeing what he did, I stayed a few minutes to look at it, he was there. Property, has not made a sign for a long time. It seems to have gone the other way and that remained the only ... Only that part of the soul and knowledge that allowed him to do what he did. So I want to buy the colors as you would with a child who has trouble speaking. And then I do not understand. I do not understand the meaning of all this. You believe that things happen by chance? "Estrela
For the first time showed a wonderfully sweet face as he turned towards her lover, lying in bed next to her. In his outline of a goddess Atlantic, were missing irony, savagery, vulgarity. Subtle or explicit it was. For a while, 'the young woman had come to have its 24 years. To have the candor and sensitivity of a naive woman who is so little.
Esteban immediately softened and began to fondle her, watching her.
"I do not know Estrelita. I do not know if that makes sense. I see a man who taught me many things, and I spoke very little different from how I met him. It seems helpless, even though I know that his genius is still there. Somewhere ... So I feel I must protect two things together. The person who means a lot to me and the symbol of his art - he smiled - It 's like having a dual purpose, linked to a single person.
understand now why all this worth it .. worth the risk, it is worth changing your life. No, I do not know if it makes sense to me ... I just know that this is my way, even if you do not know where brings me "sighed sincere.
"Meanwhile brought you in my bed, Amancio and I do not think you're wrong there." That light was lighted irreverent, the "poetry" was over. Even without the young talented architect.
"Estrela do me a favor? Stop calling me Amancio "
" I'll call you as fuck I want. You are in my house. "

Around 11 Esteban Labruna Estrela slipped out of the house, seizing the moment to desert the street, passed by his apartment to change clothes and returned to the yard. On the way he invents a pair of sharp movements to be able to see someone follow him, did not notice anyone. As it was certain that someone was behind. Inevitably.
Estrela, however, he did what he had said. He left shortly after Esteban, wearing an elegant maroon dress, black shoes with heels "reel" and socks her smile more attractive. Made a little grocery shopping, then put in a convenience store, where he bought 24 colors in its temper with brushes, locked in a wooden box. He smiled at the shopkeeper could not help but notice her beauty overflowing Portuguese and then returned home. Serena and decisively, as if it were a military mission, or worse, a spy. All this excited her, distracted her from her thoughts, made her seem softer and manageable wait that was not even her husband and lover of yet. He was just waiting, to "kill" if possible. How do you do with some ducks that restless flutter down to the last, not knowing what is happening in the viewfinder of the hunter.
On the way back, while its prosperous past attracted the attention of passers-by, touch the window of yet another shop in the busy street of Barcelona.
a particular shop. Estrela Balaìdos energetic entered and then left with three other parcels held together by a taut string. Then swung round with his hips, smoothed the silk dress, the way home. He
fly shoes, hat and sat comfortably in her dressing gown, then entered without knocking, Antoni Gaudi's room and found him dressed, sitting on the bed, laying in the usual absence. It was risky to leave him alone because he knew now, that few things could shake that image of genius became vegetable. One of these could be flowers, leather petals the day before, Estrela arranged to sweep away in an instant, as he opened the blinds and did get a bit 'light in the room of the old. She helped him to get up and accompanied him to the toilet, judging the chamber pot, or whatever it was now empty. He heard the old man who was freed and felt it wash, with mechanical gestures and precise. After a while, 'opened the door and he drove in his room. There on the bed had opened the box with the time and had left the three dropped packets
Antoni sat down on the bed and the girl went out, without looking back.

found the site Esteban agitation. His colleagues, young and old, wandered between the office who had been Don Gaudi and the heart of the building, transparencies and card in hand, to argue and try to spur the laborers, the carpenters, the builders who, bewildered, anxious to carry out their work according to the latest indications of God was the architect, what is commonly can be defined as a genuine power vacuum. "It 's like an army with many officer of various degrees, but without a real general who fell for the first time perhaps mortars "he said Labruna prosaic. It was worse, however, much worse: a general if he is replacing another, to a genius inspired by God, we can replace the icon. E 'icon Antoni was there, visible. On the faces of the most humble workers, between the gears of the massive cranes, convulsed in turmoil architects in fighting between the engineers. In all quell'incedere frantic and over the lines, as the tones of voices that rose, implying one thing: fear.
Fear of not knowing how to go forward, afraid that the "monster" who would not have stood slow future would not become the cathedral church of God. Fear, too, of losing your job, sure that he finally lost a guide. The moral leadership of an entire city, the quiet and shady mother of thought and natural draw. From God, this was the certainty of the Catalans, drew lines and curves and shapes and that he would rework the god, ritratteggiandole according to his infinite talent.
In this 'general', Catalonia, the whole world could not replace some that were not sanitized guise of referring to his spiritual father. A "father", a "mother" who had disappeared.

Esteban, overcame doubt and confusion and eventually, practical, to judge positive him all this mess, he thought that way would be easier to hide, simulate, hide.
He knew, however, that an hour would be shot and that it's time for accountability. Indeed
moment came in the late afternoon of that day.
"Architect Esteban Labruna?" The little man smiling with lunettes on the nose, looked at him.
"His Eminence wants to see it ... In advance of the times"
"Okay," He Esteban, with the resignation of interior who has thought of everything.
"Let us two days to the curia, you know where"
"Yes, I know where. Thank you. "

Returning from the yard to his house that night, Esteban never looked, not simulated any more unexpected in her journey to unveil stalking and spying. He put his hands in his pocket and with its hub in the mouth, tried to make simple thoughts, the same one does when things get really complicated. "Two days. Two days why? "We first asked" to send a message "Primary said. "What message?" He urged "Find Antoni Gaudi who had been entrusted to you or otherwise find out what happened to" You said while he thought talking face bony eminence. "Otherwise?" Rerun painful "Labruna Otherwise, you pay in person. And not only the accounts on paper. " He went on to reason
polished up to her door. It was said that, as had been good, had left behind a trail of assumptions and almost certainty that they could not have escaped the "big eye" of the curia. It was therefore inevitable that all riconducesse him.
Esteban knew, from Catalan, because the power of his church could be about people. He knew that what a sighted person, he never threatened to measure it on their skin. He returned
superficial and said he would have been fine. It was simply the latest thinking while relaxing on your bed, in quell'olezzo closed and stale that clouded his apartment. The mere thought of that last night. The thought most convenient.

few hours later, at dead of night, after leaving home and having wandered aimlessly to make sure you have no one behind, Esteban returned home to Estrela. He entered with his head down, not to make her understand his concern, he found the same, identical, laying the night before. It only changes the robe.
"Your grandfather has a different combination," said the young woman seriously.
"What did he do?" Said distracted, trying not to cross his eyes
"Needless me tell you, come and see him ... I Amancio I just say that today I did as I told you, but besides the time I bought three things, I liked the idea that painting could serve as "Rise," I'm not used to having artists in the house ... yes men, but Artists no ... "
Estrela opened the door to the room of Antoni.

Don Gaudi was sitting on the bed, motionless, his side of the tape open time, just as he had left hours before Estrela. Not a color was used, not used a brush.
front of him on the ground, there were three open packages of cardboard with the straw that stuck out.
Labruna approached more shocked that curious and drew from a of these, a glass sphere.
Judge was glass, as was the obvious nature of the object. Initially
was a light bulb, perfectly spherical. One of those big bulb with a diameter of five inches. One of those luxury goods so popular in art houses in Paris and who were now arrived to Barcelona in the recipe.
"I thought it would be nice if we had painted something on it," said Estrela, white as a child, "I thought it would be nicer ... From ornate, I mean. I took three. "
Don Esteban said that Gaudi had done with the same slow motion that betrayed bewilderment.
A beautiful ornament in relief for each of them, like a long circular design that was based on the principle of three colors: a black silky and thin, a thick, woolly gray, a white cotton. The shapes of figures in relief talking ascetic stylized representations of the masses as if in prayer, with the halo of saints, churches exploded in height, was made so very simple and yet so incomprehensible that Esteban had to bring one of the three bulbs in the nose, as to better focus. Then he sat down again, under the eyes of Estrela, alongside his absent master, came to light and, as a gesture become habitual, the cartel took advantage of the proximity of the light bulb on the nightstand. He watched, scrutinized, study with all its silent concentration.
"But these are strands of tissue ...." He made a loud voice, as if looking for confirmation from her busty mistress. "And where do they come?" He added.
Estrela laughed Labruna put the ball in the attack on the bed, then turned to Gaudi, opened his coat gently, and saw.
He saw the frayed black silk lining inside pocket at the bottom, he saw the gray fabric of his jacket that was almost mechanically marched in the flap on the chest. Then he thought, and went with the white shirt sticking to his eyes, he realized only then, out of the pants and, needless to say, had been neatly made fringes.
He realized finally riosservando one of the spheres at random: "Estrela, can not believe it. He did everything using only one wire of each color for each light bulb ... "
The girl, who was enjoying the scene with the unconscious and the safety of intelligent but ignorant people, to hold back the laughter, had difficulty responding.
"Well, it was good," then did not make it more and went out laughing. But he could do and was crying the same thing. Esteban and her.
But when it was again under Don Gaudi, the young man pinched her lips again, opening as the night before and saw it. He saw the remains of chewed straw between his gums and he knew what he had used as a glue for quell'ornamento incredible.
Then he looked at the chamber pot that had lost most of the colors and figures of the previous evening and had returned to its original purpose hardly noble. Once again the basis of the common bond was urine mixed with saliva. Only, this time, the senior architect had done chewing, to mix the product of that personal bolus. And the glue holding it. Much better than the night before, near the bright light coming from the bedside table. The wires gave way, remained there to form this bizarre and beautiful ornament, a second observation, drew in part the figures in low relief of the yard. Antoni Gaudi
on a light bulb had printed what appeared to be the summary of the Messiah's birth, on another he seemed to recognize the moments of the Passion of Jesus, at last, finally, the moment, the 'Ecce Homo! " Pilate, the crowd had to follow the abominable condemnation of Christ.
According to a continuous and repetitive play of lines, alternating the three colors to form, in relief, the land and buildings as animate beings, the sky cloudy. It was another miracle, born from the foolish mind of a genius who had lost the reason for this, self-consciousness and his life, but he asked for, struggled in some kind of recess of his mind, to express his talent. No matter by what means. What
Esteban did not understand, including efforts was "Why?". Why use those tools? Flower petals and pollen, first; wire fabrics now. With the time available.
In all that "do not understand," Labruna, had a temper tantrum as unspeakable and imploded. He put the bulbs in their wrappers, cardboard and stood thoughtfully, finally resigning with many questions remain unfulfilled.
The "prince of the Forat Vermell" it appears for the first time in his life, while repenting for not having cultivated his soul, in the past in their flesh. It was a thought of inadequacy that became bitter, until he left the room after another hour of confusion and meditation, the eyes do not put back on the Incarnation of his beautiful mistress.

She was waiting for him, as we all await the "Amancio" of this world. With a smile of ironic defense, the heart beating pulse of the opposite and plastic rigidity of those waiting to be able to disband and give up.

Fifth Wheel To Gooseneck

The occasion of the form 17 ^ - Under the sink


Howard felt sick one morning in late April. There was a reason, not one specific reason, a "causative reason", the Court would say. And nothing happened. There, within the walls of the one house that really felt it. In Providence, in the den of his creation, his living nell'ovatta anesthetized. He would have to rearrange them, make a sober and dry as usual breakfast the affection of her aunts, he would have to go out, have a browse of the newspaper and then covered with a quick pace towards home. Sitting at the usual desktop window that opened onto the garden and look fly on the keys of his "Remington". With all the ardor of those months, the ardor of that expectation of a European trip, the excitement of opening a new route. In writing, imagining, nell'autogerminare hideous monsters and dreamlike situations. He should have.
did not.
was while you brush your nails with soap and water. With the usual irrational irritation. Tank top, in front of his bathroom mirror, gave a quick first pass, then a second, then bringing the fingers bent into the palm, up his nose. To better observe them. A tiny black spot on the nail of the middle right hand was bela presents itself. Two other past will not improve the situation and, indeed, more Howard intensified the depth of his rub with a small brush, this seemed to buy more intensity in the white of the exposed nail in the pink than resting on the meat.
nails were its magnificent, slender fingers, long, slender hands. Strong hands and beautiful. Nervous that morning, he dropped the tool and nail of the left eye of trying to blow up what could be an inlay, who knows what to bore her. The sensitivity of the left did not catch no boss, no lump-porous. That spot was there but not as an offshoot unnatural, just there. Manifested itself, had grown up quell'unghia tiny well-kept. Of the middle finger on his right hand.
nervous shooting the brush and repeat the operation. Again. And again and again. But, nothing. Rational
began to think of blowing up the nail with a pair of scissors, then judge too drastic that project, then fell back on the possibility of scraping with a file. Keeping the fingers bent to the right palm under the nose, as he wandered into the bathroom to find a solution, sat on the edge of the tank, baffled, then open the drawer of the cabinet under the sink white and pulled out the file. Began frantic, precise scratching. In short, syncopated movements on a tiny area. And more to increase its commitment, the higher your scratching grew powerful and delicate at the same time, the more his senses yielded. A crash. A door that had a door opened and the order of his memories began to shake and something was moving in with the incredible effect of an image impossible. As a huge rock that moves on the wave of high tide, like a mountain that folds under the pressure of abundant snow and glaciers, river or diverting its course to the emergence and blossoming of a tree in the bed.
At first they were like lightning from a clear sky, flashes of bright light that illuminates a dark and painful eternal, that break and shatter objects used to the darkness and beat and kicked dust accumulated over the decades.

"Howy else can you do to me?"
"I want to make you a queen"
"And when will I be?"
"I'll be your king and watch over all this,"

"... watch over this world ". The filing was made by Howard whisper in the proceeding, as part of tiny gnomes who make their discomfort a choir, in a bath full of white lightning.

"There are things that I told you. I would still talk to you
Where can I find? "

nail powder dissolved in the air and his eyes bulged Howard bent, then the battle was won by black and stopped the file, while the man sat on the ground under the sink. Like a child broke a toy of paper.

With a flick of the elbow to the liver, his aunt had woken
"Howard watch the sermon. Do not distract ... "She had whispered. Then with eyes had severe resting his gaze on the other row of seats and had understood.
"When we get home we'll talk about Howard Phillips Lovecraft, and what you do not like it."
He had adjusted his collar and placed the tie. Her glossy hair parted to the right and his blond slave is disturbed by those grim threats.
serene smile and mischievous, casting a last glance that fell a few feet away on Charlotte Ripple. Like a dove flying fast in the church, he found one nest in that smiled on him.
"Charlotte Ripple is not for you Howard. His mother was married three times, his father ran away from home, his stepfather did not good name, do not want you to frequent "The elder of her aunts, she had observed aggressive when we got home just in front of windows overlooking the garden. What would become the view from his studio.
"Then he is too old for you. He has already 19 years and a look ... a look I do not like "
Howard sipped the second sermon folded on the plate, with the joy of that glimpse into the heart, the smile of a teenager who became man, the blessed unconsciousness those who do not listen.
"do as we told you?"
"Certainly, Aunt Lilian. I will do as you said "
" Well, remember that Howard "

Memories Howy our first kiss? "She stood up shooting from his chest, a few hours later, and receiving looked a bit 'weird. His big eyes and tousled hair with pine needles that seemed ornarla, made her even more beautiful. Providence could give in the summer of beautiful lights and dark intense during the winter. Opposites that never ceased to value the blond Charlotte, her green eyes that turn brown in winter, her freckles scattered around the nose that seemed to disappear when it was cold.
"Of course I remember, I'm just past few months, not forever .. Or maybe I'm wrong ... That was not the first kiss with you" He smiled sobbing, her head leaning against the tree
"hateful" She had trimmed back a handful of the liver. Always the same. This time he had not heard.
"Well .. sincere" dragged down by giving and receiving a kiss so intense that their bodies seemed to merge into a real one. Ripple
Charlotte had a year older than Howard. He had loved her from the start, at least a couple of years ago, when their eyes were crossed and then kidnapped the store away. You for a basket of prunes, him for the meal. Do you already in hat and veil to mimic the ladies of Boston, to peel him in short trousers, the knees with his comrades. Lovecraft never really thought no, but that was one of the last times that he put the shorts.
From the touch of the looks of that day, the automatic appointment had been fixed. Twice a week, at the same time, spread over days. Him for the meal, she for the fruit. She, sweetly sadistic to delay a moment, to prevaricate nell'emporio him restless in anticipation of seeing you arrive.
The first time I had touched was the fault of an orange.
Howard had been asked to buy some generic 'fruit had expected, he saw her appear, had gone along with her smile and receiving comments shared in the basket of oranges. Immediately there was catapulted. Their hands had been raised "involuntary" under the eyes of the unaware Mr. Buff. That moment had lasted hours, days, thoughts of Howard.
him with her fingers grazed the back, she had surrounded the palm, giving it its heat. They had looked at, without saying anything. The making and strengthened a love in a young heart is not to explore. But print is like blood in wet cement and malleable, easy to impress, can not be erased over the years. In the rare lucky quest'impronta remains docile and serene soul, in others it s'incatena the deep and said, then, the pace of future all the emotions that love can refer. From
exploration and love and its implications, such as those who knew Howard month later, frantic touch each other, the first whispered words and the first secret meeting.
and others to follow, culminating in the first kiss, on the same lawn, under the same plant.

"I love Charlotte" He then mumbled him that Sunday afternoon, after the two Sunday sermons.
"I do more" had raised her, smiling in a perhaps slightly too pale. Same as the young writer had always been considered as a secret especially the almost ethereal beauty. Incredibly her.
"Then we will stay together, I find a job soon, so I will marry you "How was distant aunt Lilian. It seemed that there were no other words to the world that we are about this and that everything, absolutely everything revolved around them and they were finalized. It was a story as old as the world, in short: the two guys who love the simplicity of a young heart, yet so unique in their "whole world".
"I'll talk to my mother," he told The Charlotte "My stepfather will not look forward to going"
"I will not need to talk to anyone. I'll know. "
"Howy else can you do to me?" He had, serene, the young woman to lean back on his chest, after a moment of meditation.
"I want to make you a queen" He simply said the boy
"And when will I be?" He chased her, like a child.
"I'll be your king and watch over this world together."
that it was then silence. Howard had heard the whisper of the breath of Charlotte that he fell asleep and had been watching a bit 'up among the branches of oak, to the sun that it was cloud, the clouds that were running fast. The shadow had moved, some ant had climbed on his hand resting on the lawn and thought a simple, docile as an emotion that was experienced, full and overwhelming when pulsed made him sleep.
He thought how nice it would be that day of great decisions, not ever end. Not because he feared the future, but because he was sure of that emotion that took him healthy and vigorous, he was sure of her, she trusted and felt now that he felt that the flavor of life was a beautiful thing, when it was tested and explored.
That was the moment when the soul of a boy becomes a man's true, the moment of immense beauty that a man talk about the future and preparing our hearts to face it, the extreme fragility of the moment in which the gods of life, should send an angel to protect you. And they must do to ward off any corruption, any stroke than non-organic music. What, strong, and must start from the heart, healthy, has to come to mind. Untouched, like a flow of life.

Howard was leaning against the cold wall under the sink. It stayed that way. With open arms and abandoned the small brush on the belly and head slightly bowed. While his memory gave him rest a moment, eyes and subtle deflate he had time to give a logical explanation. She resigned to the idea of \u200b\u200bhaving gone too far, too long to have chained his emotions, having played without layering effect. One another, making sure that the most powerful, most important, able to cheat with a game of gambling, regularly end up under that shuffled deck fast. So what were the latest to threaten to emerge. Always.
"Then why?" He said. Why now emerged sobbing and the feminine "... remember quell'amoretto despicable?".
What changed? Where was wrong? In what was jamming the mechanism is oiled?
The answer could be found in the face of Sonia in the hands of Charlotte, in the arms of women who had not loved. Why do not you play with your heart, do not detach plugs, unless you are sure you did not need that vital current that also brings you sorrow, but you talk about living life at the moment when runs through el'attraversi. So what to live, to emotion, to pulsing you removed when you did not have to live your current returns. With no apparent sense, without a material logic, but to close old accounts. Themselves.
When he died on his lucid moment, beginning to sob in the bathroom sink of his, Howard accepted him with a sense of liberation and surrendered to what was not a mere memory, but also hear a ticking . metronome in his love life. It was a sound
unwholesomely irregular.

The first day he thought of domestic commitments, which the strange mother submitted the right way: vent to a personal way of life not quite regular. A soap for the home, in an afternoon of mud, the cleaning of an unknown number of windows in the morning that threatened rain, gardening, during the hottest hours of the hottest noon.
the second day, having no friends in common and nemmanco involuntary complicity of strangers, began to take a ride around his home, already suspicious. Noting the shutters half-closed and a lack of internal movement that really began to worry.
the third day the first levee had broken, "Charlotte is not" He'd grunt in the face of her stepfather, a huge man transformed in the belly, with a few hair, a bald face and a tone that brooked no reply.
the fourth day of silence on the part of Charlotte, however, Howard had broken through the inertia and smashed all the banks in what was one of the few times in his life. He dodged the father of the girl at the entrance and was then projected up the stairs to the room of his beloved. Not before he peeked around. With moving eyes and looked frantic as she would never had.
"My little there-had told her mother, a woman weeping and dapper - we did admit the other day. It 'been sick at night four days ago ... "
" Where now? "Howard shouted, shaking off the arms of his stepfather in the meantime had reached the second floor. Charlotte's mother spoke to him from the back of the room, almost not wanting to be an escort.
"They took her to the hospital. But who are you? What do you want from her? "The trick over the hours trickled down her cheeks. The boy had looked and listened with clenched fists through the body, with the light of aggression unknown facts, unusual, undiscovered. He had no time to despise her. He cast a last look at
flaccid host, ready to trim a head. He stayed and left.
ran to the house, got into the room, took all books that were within range, knock down the iron box with four pennies in savings, he put a blue jacket, took the stairs. Without face her aunts in the meantime the group had done in the bottom of the ramp. In an attempt to stop him, one of which made him drop the bag. It came out almost all the books and the young Phillips Lovecraft did not bother to collect them.
Within moments it was already down the street, with his jutting chin and thin lips, his frenetic pace that makes it even slimmer, more lean with the shoulder bag.

When it was on the threshold of the room, outside paid visits to the hospital in Providence, weeping the nun who had made him indulgent way, Howard went to the bed of his future bride. Without wondering what was the evil bastard that if she was carrying on, without wondering if and how he was ready. He was only 18 years, did not think about his future, he did not think his reason, he had no knowledge of its limits and perception of writing inextricably part of his affective history at that time. Football like his final mark in the wet cement of his fate and did so with the instinct of a brave man el'incoscienza boy. Ideal match to get hurt twice.

Charlotte, covered to her chin and her hair spread on the pillow, he looked up and smiled infinity with a pale golden incarnation. He pulled out a hand and touched the deck to Howard, as he sat down.
"Do not worry Howy" he whispered with a smile slowly
"Soon I'll be fine .. Then I'll be all for you" Howard smiled at her and then tried not to cry again.
The sister had advised him not to have physical contact with her, if he forgot him and kissed her on the mouth.
"I stand here with you, Charlie ... I stand here with you."
She smiled and fell asleep, allowing his companion to begin to sob silently with bowed head and a hand to his forehead.

Charlotte Ripple had little less than twenty years old when he died of fulminant hepatitis, a few days later. He had beside him his man that was little more than a boy. The young blond had remained close since that time, for three days and three nights. He had held her hand, he had spoken with her, so softly, almost as if confessing love love. In the long pauses at night, then, the young Lovecraft had devoured the only book that was left in the bag after his escape from the house of the aunts. If it was read in three horns, a part of every night, as if that enthusiasm, that could somehow be enraptured help, what should have been the only woman in his life.
In the hustle and bustle of visits during the day, when coughing and Clubs soft moans of the dormitory to the hospital in Providence, Howard prepared his way to that final separation. He did, as a self-paced course, inspired by the nature of his soul. So deep, so reach the end foreignness with an incredible imagination. In the heart of this young writer as the seed germinated dell'anestetizzarsi, the switch off, when the pain became so strong that it can lead to self-destruction immediately. He is not included, sitting on that wooden chair at the side of his beloved that blew, did not understand what was happening, how profoundly unnatural and horrible that there was in making something else that terrible pain that, yes I understood this, he would have scored. Forever.
was like a survival instinct, one that did not shed a tear, when the doctor on duty the morning of the fourth day, I certify the death of Charlotte.
remained silent with her hands clasped between her thighs, looking at the sheet that covered her face, before they take her. Then he put the book in his bag with a slow movement and in doing so, the black nails looked tired and redundant tap.
He took a handkerchief from his breast pocket, moistened with saliva and then began to rub her fingers. Only after this step, stood up and walked away. While away
in the hallway of the dormitory, the only thought emerged. It was simple: a lightweight absurd. A sentence desfogliata feelings and passions and personal material needs of pregnant unnaturally: "There are things that I told you. I would like to talk to you again. Where can I get you? ".

Almost twenty years after Howard stretched out under a wet sink and allowed the thought of what he lost, he had the face by a delicate feature of Charlotte, or severe physical traits of Sonia. Like a circle that closes, an emotion that completed the full circle of his life and gave him the peace of a delayed crying and comforting.
That morning he had no mood to write.

How Long Do Swollen Dog Nipples Last

The occasion of the form 16 ^ - The gift of Fierro


Howard was not a normal observer. He was a man who looked and, by instinct, temperament and genius, let settle, settle. Inwardly, as aggregation of perceptions, leave a door open, they found the house in a part of his meditation. Then retracted to the right, under the pressure of memory. That was the stage where its tests that extra step, changing her look old, his memory, to bring in new reality in fantastic form in his writings. He was one of his gifts, his light on the darkness of seeming distraction, useful to mask this sediment. When questioned on the spot, he could show short incredulous to what was their memory, about what, just before, the agent had seen, rather than a witness, only to discover in the acute and polished to bring up the same feelings and images. But in their own time, in kneeling pose in relation to its vocation as a writer.
That was a unique ability. That could open the doors of his imagination is paired with his feelings, his view, to perceive its gone. That flows from it were the case and monstrous dream of his writings. So high in the push imagination, so real that emerged from this curious way, this normal process, of his senses.
Many, many times, this creative process was also useful to drive away bad thoughts present to remove the thorns, its thorns. Those that would not allow him to put his emotions on paper autogerminative. Nate in himself and set on paper, without filters, it sensorial distractions right now.
could receive a professional disappointment about his writing, and many years had been received, and experience them as something else, then immediately continue writing and drawing from his past and settle this macerate other emotions. Other than immanent, but useful to do so to survive. Howard did not live on the emotion of the moment, but on the past, unsettled, sterilized, called to mind, almost at will. On the run from the perceptive reality, chasing property of experience.
On the train that brought him back to Providence was not. Unplug the current perception that he would speak to Sonia, their limitations, of his own inadequacy and the feeling that whatever that is, but he saw him move to concerns and made the usual "other", while a process that usually settles remember that sharp pain, and drew others. Different. Softer and therefore more useful to his writing of the moment. With the coolness of an automaton, the cold interior of one who wants to live his life while he lived.

The captain had taken from the inside pocket of his khaki uniform cigarillo a long and slender. Then, before the large window, after having done the right spin on the fingers with the skill of a juggler, if it was brought to his lips. He looked down and stealthily, without moving the sight of an inch, she received the shock.
Her eyelids were so subtle vibrato, with his left hand, he rubbed a match on the belt and two puffs indifferent, tobacco had caught fire. His gaze remained fixed over the window. Again and again. Without giving an inch from its radius. Shortly after she came the second shock.
'Bastards of peons! "He felt angry at his back. His lanky attendant had a brother killed a few months earlier. "Beggars damned! ... Smoking Merde! "
" Rodrigo, please! "He launched the captain, turning his head to snap to the subject behind.
"Excuse me sir!" The sergeant was throwing out his chest tightened.
"I do not want to hear comments - had urged the officer - If you want to look, look. But hush! "His eye was on the last words over again through the window on the bustling square of the barracks. Suffocating in the dust of the day, other soldiers were. About
placed in line for two, who will accompany and move.
"Today we are scheduled sixteen, sir," she whispered Rodrigo
"Sixteen And yes ... we are only at an altitude of two "had raised the master, as was the cattle market.
"There is also the ... ... That Isabela Isabela Exteberrìa. Are seventeen Mr. Captain "
" Yes, seventeen "He confirmed a deep voice, always looking out the window, while a third was explained by discharge into the air.
dusty area under the administration offices, two parallel rows of soldiers, one of squatting, the other standing with his rifle shouldered waited. Three men carrying away a body lying under a blanket as a wall riddled with three men he brought another walking dead. Behind them raven a priest with book and cross in his hand.
The fourth man, under the eyes of the officer, consented to be untied, he accepted the last rites of the priest and that he enjoyed strong sun, due to a geometric patch of shadow, which gave light in the form of a right triangle in area of \u200b\u200benforcement.
With the dignity of a statue, the prisoner gave his face the firing squad. The fourth download caught him in full. His eyelids trembled as the captain.
"May I sir?"
"What is Rodrigo, tell me ..."
"I wanted to ask you, if I may ..."
"You"
"You do not like this. Why do you look? "A fifth discharge entered the office on the third floor of the building, as a thrill in horse hair.
"For it is written - said the commander, without turning from the square -. E 'written in the regulation of the officers .. "And he recited from memory. "Any officer may be found in the area of \u200b\u200bexecution must stop and assist until the end. In case of absence, inability or incapacity of the commander of the platoon, and it must ensure sostiuirvisi ... Yes, ok,. We understand each Rodrigo "
" But I do not know Captain, to the police station there are at least four officers ... "
"It's okay. A regulation is a regulation "
" Mah "
" No buts. Maybe that's why you're not an officer. " Sixth low.
"Maybe that's why, yes," After the series of shootings
male, was shortly after the turn of the seventeenth time.
Exteberrìa Isabela, was said to be one of the lovers of General Rodolfo Fierro, was captured a few weeks before. In a basket, they found three pistols and a grenade. In an attempt to escape was shot two government guards. One was dead. Today it was there, dressed in a modest, with her hair streaked with white, his face and suffered forty movements filled with calm and dignity. To reject the last rites with a friendly smile, to reject the black handkerchief over his eyes.
The platoon followed the orders and the woman shouted: "Long live the revolution! Viva Villa! Arriba Mexico! "The Seventeenth download took away her breath. Forever.
The captain followed the scene, his eyelids trembled again, for the last time that afternoon.
Two of the eight soldiers were left with head bowed, in the act of shooting. In the square
the lieutenant who commanded them had approached him furious and began to whip them on the face with his whip: "Cabrones! Hicos de Pierre! "His cries were raised high, even more than Women's sacrificed by losing a war goddess. One of them was on his knees weeping, the other still standing, there always two companions in the front line, held out his cheeks a better than whipping deep.
"See Rodrigo? We shot the women .. We have the enemy in our midst, we should find another way "
" We should, sir. But who must die, must die ... "
" Who decides? "

Howard still had in mind Paco's face, as he told with his flow and his eyes sparkling clear. He had heard his stories detailed the night before and if I had let it slip inside. Had accumulated feelings, instincts and emotions. While the Mexican lace from grizzled told of its history, with a serene smile that he knew he left, after all.
As the train was traveling and his eyes reflected deep in the landscape, Howard had slipped back on the thought of the man who had given him hospitality, which had opened the house and had told him. He thought, but only for a moment, to give her features the protagonist of one of his stories, to give him his weight, its human, his languid anxiety. In a serenity that could climb over, it seemed, any barriers now. Drawing on his experience. It was a simple story.

"Captain De Los Rios eh .. "The man's dusty and loaded with weapons had approached seriously, taking the military document open before his eyes.
The train car was filled with a stench of gunpowder and rancid sweat that made her shudder.
front of the officer of administration, two men, among them Rodrigo, lay. One bites the other, his attendant, bent unnaturally in a chair with blood trickling from his mouth open and a glazed look that spoke of death.
Paco, his hands tied behind his back was standing.
"I want to .."
"You you, pig?" He had silenced one of two men who held him still for a bicipiti.dandogli painful tug.
"What do you want?" He had approached the general
"I would ask you to close your eyes to my attendant."
The military train on which he had traveled to Chihuahua, was still, half in flame, half not.
was needed was a charge on the rails a few feet below the engine and hundreds of rebels had done everything to pieces. Immobilized convoy, cars, anime thirty-seven government soldiers. In addition to the ten who had surrendered.
General Fierro had made a nod to one of his and they leaned on Rodrigo Estevez giving peace to his final look.
"And now what you want Mon Capitain? Want a coffee? ... No? "He smile briefly Fierro, ironically condescending tone. His breath came bitter to the nostrils of the officer.
"You have defended well, had resumed the captain -. Very well know for being an accountant and shoot ... "
" El general we found the case "had prorotto a rebel Pancho Villa, entering the carriage behind her head.
"Well, go" Fierro had told him without looking, then he resumed.
"Now I need you even more for this" mon Capitain "... Are you afraid to die?"
Paco de Los Rios had bowed his head slowly, as a sign of assent. Then it was back on the stocky figure, it had watched the green eyes, the flowing mustache, tan spotted the orbits, white teeth. He felt dead, but this made him feel better.
"Bravo, you have it. Why do not we see prisoners among the officers. Too dangerous ... And then there's a problem. What can I do with you? ... "
He sat at the round table. The only one who had not been reversed during the shooting.
"... In the end you are a military, even if only an accountant and is a sin you know? If I was Colonel we could even ask for a ransom. But you're just ... Just a moment. And you do not even tell me secrets mon Capitain ... "
'It is true, I have no secrets "
" Well, tell me then ... Captain Captain De Los Rios, tell me a reason why I should avoid death. Just one. "
Paco stood in silence a few seconds, he felt his arms stretching behind him, painfully tense, the blood flowed more to the hands. Then he spoke, not to delude himself to save his life and even for revenge in advance. They do is talk.
"Isabela Exteberrìa"
Fierro looked down a moment, pointed to the four men to go out with a dry nod of the head. Then, left alone, went back on his prisoner and smiled
bad "feel"
"I was there when was shot ... I heard her scream three times. "Said the three phrases .. Now I am going to die, I understand how difficult it is to do it. I understand how difficult it is not bend over and beg for mercy in the face of death. The appreciation for this and I think that if she did it, I can do it myself. According to shut up, I do not have to shout slogans "
Fierro passed on the forearm as dry mouth and stood staring at him sitting in silence.
"Isabel was my woman"
"I know
" You do not have a heart like a soldier mon Capitain ... Why did you choose that? "
" I do not know. In war, a soldier is easy ... maybe shoot and kill, you shoot and you die. Without nuance, without compromise, perhaps no more pain. I'm dying today. If you hurry, I'm afraid ... This is pain that I have chosen "
El General Rodolfo Fierro stood up and pulled out a cartridge of the gun resting on the shoulder and held it pointed towards the face. His gaze decided he had in him all the absurd convenience of a Revolutionary War fought between soldiers and stinking poor without soul, seemed to melt into a fold of reflection. Unexpected, unexpected, baffling.
"No captain De Los Rios, today I believe that you will not die. I want to make a gift, but ... "He called two
of his, made him loose, then grabbed his hand and drew from his pocket a cigar cutter brass.
I put the little finger of the right of docile Paco.
"Viva la Re-vo-lu-zi-o-ne" she whispered as the blade sank into the flesh with a slow and relentless pace. He felt the soft thud of the first layer unnaturally fall.
"Viva Vil-la" is repeated sull'anulare with one click faster.
"Ar-ri-ba Me-xi-co" conclusion of the slaughter on average, with all the slow spell that nonsense.
weeping eyes of paco, biting his inner lip, repressed the urge to scream out of pride did curl on her blood who continued to run.
Then, slowly and inexorably, he left the first hiccup of physical pain that made tears, you did cry softly as a child that wants to cry, but can not.
Fierro took out a white handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her.
"mon Capitain Now you must learn to live with everything in between between the killing and being killed ... your three fingers me I'll take it. They belong to Isabel "
Paco De Los Rios looked at him from below, purple and crying. But recovered wisdom and strength as a fighter and with a nod of the head suddenly became "yes" with the power of an ancient military dignity. Once the revolutionaries
they were gone, after having killed the eight other prisoners, Paco de Los Rios was alone in the barren countryside.
Wobble, you urinate on the wound to disinfect it, took out a handkerchief from the pocket of a fallen comrade and bandaged, dabbing his blood.
Way, alone, for twelve miles to a Chihuahua.

"I do not know why I did this Fierro, rather than kill - had told Howard, last night, while puffing with his umpteenth cigarillo - and for years I just thought that bastard had been mutilated in this way, leave me crippled without my dignity as a soldier. Then, when the weather has eased this pain I began to understand ... No, Mr. Howard. I do not believe that Fierro had simply wanted to save my life.
Yes, maybe he saw a light in my eyes of loyalty that prompted him to do it, but it was not just that. I think that would really give me something, maybe another opportunity for life, so to spend - and raised his right hand with three stumps, smiling peaceful - away from a life that was not mine. I believe this: I really pushed to explore everything that was in the middle between the shooting and killing, to be shot and die.
Now, Mr. Lovecraft, she comes to me and tells me that these three fingers are my strength ... my secret when I make the coffee - he smiled -. I do not know, but it is curious statement, I never noticed. The truth is that nothing would be worth the pain of losing it that way, perhaps only a new life. I thought of their lack of regret not more, but enjoy it ... "And with his sly look raised his hand and waved the fingers of the right. Or what was left.

When Howard Phillips Lovecraft, who returned to Cleveland, he returned to Providence with virtual cobwebs on the eyes and a feeling sleep deprived, it did so with the certainty of a marriage dissolved that settles in his heart el'abbozzo a new story.
not yet know how to develop it, nemmanco ravine from which to draw the darkness of his imaginative monstrous figures that would have characterized; knew, however, already partly written on one of his notebooks, which nature and humanity that would have divided his hero.