All In Mid-August

  ***

  The dear friend Carla on the phone

  13 August, Saturday afternoon

  The afternoon Trizia stayed in his apartment. She had too many emotions: theft, recovery and Ross. She was exhausted. She tried to distract the occasion; the practice of Trombley from sketch was perfect. She started the computer and surrounded himself with documents. She turned on the radio. Notes of classical music surrounded her, good for concentrate. She initiated the drafting of the action. When he immersed himself in the work, the hours passed quickly without cognition.

  " ... It follows the erroneous notified of the investigation; trusting the plan is not updated properly ... "It was at the heart of the problem when the phone rang for a long time before we hear. The dear friend Carla was looking for. "How are you; not you call me "she was prepared to submit a news item."I read that it's hot in Bologna" Trizia did not want to tell her about the vicissitudes of the morning. He preferred to think that you were enjoying the holiday. "Blessed are you that the amusements; then, the island is just as beautiful as they say?" She had not heard the tone in the voice of the most pleased, however, could not wait for her to tell her the news, now preferred, from a distance.

  "You know that Duilio married?" "Duilio, my Duilio?" To Trizia he was his property, exclusive of affection, right acquired by the length of relationship. When referring of his new girlfriends, she was nervous a lot, now and then that he learned that he had married! Struggled to hold back the rage of jealousy. "With who?" She did not want that Carla had the exact measure of his wrath. "He got married this morning, there were publications for a month, did not you know?" Carla yes, more than a month, but how to tell? His impression was that Trizia she still loved him.

  "Oh, with those who know you?" She spent reviewing his achievements . "You know, Gloria, our high school classmate," Now you see how she gets angry, Carla thought . "He is married to that hm ..." She coughed; she would not give her satisfaction. Even a dear friend, do not show the side. Gloria had already tried with him many years ago, both were music teachers. "What did you say? " Is it possible that he mentioned a dirty word? No. Trizia completely repudiated the "Did you know you from what?" She asked questioningly. "As you say, sorry, I must leave you, call me when you get back, hello, a kiss," Carla replied and hung up.

  And good Duilio, the couch potato; the woman wanted a certain typ, eh! A little ' ... She bit her li , she was too good to be able to pronounce aloud. She was too hot. She remembered when he was in a taxi to the airport. Almost an omen. Margherita gardens was their meeting place. The first time and then more. Hand in hand , telling, between avenues of Plane trees, in the grove of oak trees to sit on the grass shaven, among the cypress trees leads along the bank of small lake from the edges of plaster, they fell in love. Sitting at the table to taste the ice cream from the cup, he spoke of the Barcarolle and Minuets, pinched and arpeggios, and occasionally brushed her lips closed with a kiss elegant. She loved him in lightness as certain interests or books that accompany a life and do not trade with anyone. She felt so fulfilled. She thought it was that, love.

  In the bathroom, threw cold water on his face. She wiped the white linen towel from the initials embroidered on the edge of the hotel. Ironically, at that time the radio broadcast Sevilla, played by Andes Segovia on guitar. Duilio also played with the talent. Too bad that did not have the same talent to interpret his life with her. She looked in the mirror over the sink. Horrendous. Suddenly she saw ugly and old. The years passed without a lasting relationship. She was getting old alone, no one really liked. She tried a lifeline. His father could not reassure her in that case.

  She had to think quickly to something very beautiful and sensual: Ross, blacks irresistible eyes, curly hair and gleaming marble buttocks. The phone rang again, who wanted more? "Yes, who is it, do you need?" The hoarse voice, sore. "I'm Marco, you're fine?"Marco had not given us peace, continued to mull over. He felt guilty, he had warned of the threat to the pearl at the wrist, and it was also a bit ' scary. He had a kind of revulsion to the idea of confronting someone. He did not even throw a punch. Needed to be addressed, not only the wanted close.

  "I'm fine, tell me," With you, shortened distances. "Please, you have to come with me; I'll take you to a place tonight; we have dinner together, I know a local sympathetic, eating, listening to music "."All right" Distracted, have fun, meet new people, that was not the recipe to forget the disappointments of love? She would have done so too.