before the fire, and warms me around the chestnuts into the pan. I seem to be cooked to perfection.
I do not want to soil the tablecloth, I open a newspaper and to roast chestnuts on it.
What a great heat.
I take in hand, I hopped from one palm to another, I burned trying to peel them. Gradually formed a small pile of shells. And beneath them, barely visible, a face, in print.
The coincidences. The right page of the newspaper right.
Roby Piantoni, mountaineer Coleraine. Friends and family will make you free tomorrow, Sunday, at the Church of Coleraine (BG)
Coincidences ...
I do not think I'll see you in the door over Albania with all those kids who want chocolate. Not see you smile more, no more will I see you sign your poster. Never again.
many things you take his life. Really a lot. Escape, you want them, you want to stay, but for one reason or another, by force, with vehemence, the fuckin 'river of life brings you on.
Sometimes you see them next to you only go fast, just a flash and go. Other times you manage to
was they, for a while '.
But everything, everything flows. Runoff.
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