Then, turning to Ernesto: 'And what is your novel about?'
"Suddenly Ernesto no longer saw the people coming and going, he no longer saw the machines, he saw nothing. Meditated and painful words and more thoughts and phrases and words and when he had finished in front of him there was a colorful tablecloth with two glasses of wine on it. "That's all." he said.
"'You, did you write this?' Arnoldo's voice asked.
"'Yes," Ernesto said and looking at the wine he seemed no longer thirsty.
"'You wrote this. Damn. A hundred damn times."
"There was a long silence. Ernesto saw the dark girl return, still dragging the bored-looking dog, and the young soldier walked next to her. They sat at the next table. They met, I think. It's nice to meet in life.
"Ernesto smiled at him. It is good to have someone who listens, someone who is not always and only Marta, poor woman.
"I sip his wine. He saw the dark girl and the young soldier look each other in the eyes and shake hands on the table. I wonder what the young man will do when he is no longer a soldier. I wonder if they will get married.
"'Have you talked to an editor?' Arnoldo asked.
No comments:
Post a Comment