Page 22 of Saint Spirit

ploughshares until after all to the ethereal meat of their diaphanous souls and, as Ippolita and Delfina to the shelter of their alcove, only now, on that lost small boat in the sea, they forgot the miasmas of the world, grasped in the noble purity of an adamant embrace. The avarice of the time did him clement to serve with its vassals "the Hours" and its soldiers "the Minutes" all the voluptuousness of mind and of it speaks that the two lovers desired to express. Later the moment came to rationalize to understand the sense of the universe that had swallowed them.

  "Dafne, who is the craftsman of everything this? To whom have given never the possibility to freely have our existences? Was too much everything reality! What has been staged was something impossible to recreate even in a set hollywoodiano!"

  Dafne, with the shiny eyes, he/she answered him:

  "No, Saint, is tragically a more serious matter. I was totally prey to the desperation, have come indeed to kill for! I don't know anything of what there is around, the only certainty is that you/he/she cannot be returned back. Does Saint, Understand? Have really killed a man!"

  Saint tightened its Dafne to itself, allowing to surrender him to her to a weeping liberatorio that had not had up to that moment the luxury to grant him. Meanwhile he scrutinized with vigilant eye the horizon and the sea that it surrounded them, asking himself/herself/itself in what direction could be never the firm earth. Their escape had freed them from an adverse world to conduct them in meal to the surly unknown. However you/he/she would have gone, both had accepted the enormous risk to also condemn him to death to go out of that aberrant situation; and to tell her/it all, in reality their actions had not been driven so much from a reasoned choice, how much from the primordial instinct of independence that united their nature.

  Two days passed characterized by the immobility of the sea and to delineate him, in the minds of the two lovers, of a concrete possibility to end their existences swinging on that small boat that had saved them. A serene imperturbability, however, marked their looks and their hands, that were looked for merciful. They were not afraid some that that choice could drag them in the abyss of the desperation, you/they had decided to be free to whatever cost, and they now waited that fate disclosed them the developments of the paradoxical walk that had undertaken. It was the thin haze that suddenly dispersed him to their regalar new hope, discovering to the horizon the contours of the dry land. Saint labored some before becoming himself/herself/themselves account that you/they had found a sense, a direction toward which to address his/her own efforts.

  "Earth!it " shouted spellbound "the moment has arrived to row."

  Saint and Dafne used all the energy of which you/they could prepare for reaching those blessed coasts, and after very to sweat their bodies they succeeded in abandoning on the waterline of those strangers earths. Crushed by the heaviness of their empty bellies, they surrendered to the irresponsibility to the dream that would perhaps have brought them to be the masters of their way of living.

  XV

  The awakening was marked by a new eclatante sensation. Yes, because to reawaken him on a nineteenth-century vessel was traumatizing, but to reopen the eyes to be in front of an individual with long hair and grey beard, dressed with a simple white tunic, that stared at them thoughtful, you/he/she could have to do with the absurdity. Saint was the first one to acknowledge that presence. With extreme slowness it sent away the doziness from his/her own nerves stiracchiandosi as whatever terrestrial animal. The character could not be certain a threat considering that you/he/she had been able to have them, dormant and unarmed on the waterline, for who knows how much time and nevertheless you/he/she had not even tried to wake up them. Dafne still slept when Saint opened mouth.

  "Good morning, calls me Saint Black. My wife and I are you are shipwrecked. We have lost our boat and.

  The old man kept on fixing the wet sand that made him disarrange the grains from the waves of the sea, without having shown some interest to the words of Saint. This last gave a rapids glance to the surrounding landscape. There were enormous maritime pines that surrounded a beach from the white sand and there were no sign of the human presence. The look of Saint again assembled him on the static expression of the hoary man. Then he/she asked him:

  "He/she lives here?"

  The man didn't utter some sound and didn't even mime gestures that established a whatever form of communication with Saint. It seemed it meditated deeply on something of decidedly serious. It didn't leastly have the air of one unprovided or of a savage. The well visible wrinkles on the frowning forehead and the signs around the eyes were clear furrows dug by to think of a man that had spent the life to squeeze him the meninges. Yet from he some type of possibility didn't slip out to report him. It was inscrutable, immovable in his/her rigid position. The wind that passed through the long threads of white silk that crowded him on the face and on the head, betrayed only the fact that was not a statue of granite. In the while Dafne reopened the beautiful eyes that you/he/she had given her the destiny and, discovering next to her that new presence, with dismay it was addressed toward Saint.

  "Thing happens? What does this man want from us?"

  Saint confined to affectionately caress the face of the beautiful one and still seductive Dafne, in sailor suits, well distant from the aggressive aesthetics of the dame of class ch'era been up to just before that adventure; yet disarranges him hair of her, that totally framed a deprived face of makeup, they gave her a saucy aspect that, not notching in some way his/her typical sensuality of adult woman, they created such a match of disparate tastes assembled in her to make even more her irresistible. Saint, in that instant, you/he/she would have made very gladly us the love, worrying then himself/herself/itself about thing it was happening around them. But the spark of the desire was a lightning in its look that dispersed not him as soon as a mighty voice thundered from the breast of the old hermit.

  " Or time, consumer of the things, and, or envious antiquity, you destroy all the things, and you consume all the things from the hard teeth of the old age, little by little, with slow death. Helen, when him specchiava, seeing the vizzes wrinkles of his/her face done for the old age, piagne, and he/she thinks seco because du was abducted' turned. "

  Saint in front of the exit of the man literally astonished; the only word that succeeded in stuttering was:

  "Thing?"

  The old one then, turning to Dafne, it said:

  "Madonna, these said words of mine, coming today, too sieno slow for you, but for the imperishable ignorant person that doesn't know yet, son a sacred I recommend how pleased to him will be when not more we will be!"

  The eyes of Dafne drank those words giving the Saint impression that the look of the woman represented a silent assent. A wince of inexplicable anger appropriated him some young occultist that, grabbing Dafne for a hand, it was started on the beach shouting:

  "There will be also something sensible on this accursed isolates!"

  The man with the tunic smiled at the scene affirming:

  "Alive for violence and blackberries for liberty, the strength! But it is always also a spiritual virtue. Careful, however, tardità does her/it great and prestezza does her/it weak; then races with fury to his/her disfazione and gladly herself consumes!"

  In those words Saint warned the wisdom spread by the aura of the wise man that looked at him/it had a good time. Its anger was weak and desperate, it was hungry and everything of its body panted to take back vigor. The need to feed himself/herself/themselves was the only thing that at that time the premises for indeed. The old man gathered to the flight the need that took possession him of every fiber of Saint, darkening him the reason, therefore it said:

  "That thing is very desired give them dwarves, that when is possessed her/it, in man of a flash is already thing for right! Meco and arete the food that needs you to be still people with celabro come, and not with the only whips as the fierce beasts of the forests."

  Said this, was started and the two unlucky persons, in a first moment
hesitant, they were convinced after brief instants to follow that peaceful to be, so much different from the rough sailors that had left to their shoulders.

  The dish their offer was constituted by a nourishing soup of vegetables and vegetables. The bowls of the guests were filled more than once, to appease the applications of stomaci a little gotten used to the bites of the hunger. Once that the two protagonists satiated him, repurchasing the polite and civil tones that more they were suitable him to their being, you/they could rationally observe finally the singleness of the new context that looked out upon them to him. To date the historical period in which you/they were found in base to the surrounding landscape was difficult rather considering that, besides the only vegetation, their eyes you/he/she was introduced to only the residence in wood of the wise man, a very rustic and essential place that didn't allow to shine through any indication on the century when you/they were living. They were well soon rhesuses account in the adventure on the vessel, that had been reproduced in that breaker, from very skilled hands, a context that would have been able to have an inclusive historical dating between 1750 and the 1860.

  The apparent uninhabited island, was totally instead an uncontaminated place. It seemed