Un battito d'ali
"Where's Adriana?"
"I think she's still in the room, ma'am."
The slightly worn doors let out rumors. That winter, to save on heating, we moved to a small apartment on the top floor.
"... I don't have the courage, lady. I know how fond she was..."
"We have to say it: you mustn't hear the news on the radio..."
I opened the door: "What news?" I ask. My mother and Gigia looked at me without answering. I opened the door further: "What news should I not hear on the radio?"
"Messrs. Hemingway..." Gigia begins and immediately her voiced cracked.
"... they had an accident..." my mother continued.
"What kind of accident?"
"A... a plane crash..."
"Where are they... how are they...?"
"I'm..." my mother started and stopped "...dead." Gigia says.
"Dead? Did you say they're dead?"
"Yes, Adriana."
"Mary too?"
"Mary too."
No comments:
Post a Comment