wandered streets familiar to me, amid the shadows of what could have been mine, what I missed and what I could become. I believe thoughts are common after a certain age. We grow older and think about the mistakes, the missed opportunities. Only a certain age that I still do not have it. I'm not even close to it. It is said that when one is old memories alive. I just remember, but I do not feel old. Perhaps it is projected to keep me in my past life. So far away now that is becoming increasingly difficult to focus. A past focus, but still alive and vibrant.
If I had not ever returned from New York?
Se avessi comprato la nuda proprietà della casa in fondo alla via?
Se avessi suonato la tromba invece della chitarra?
Certo sarebbe un altro presente. Chissà se più o meno doloroso e difficile di questo. E un nuovo passato, e un futuro incerto, com’è giusto che sia.
Vorrebbe dire cancellare incontri, amicizie, amori. Cancellerei anche tanto dolore, ma per trovarne di nuovo e sconosciuto. Insomma tabula rasa e via, si ricomincia da zero. Da una tela immacolata.
Ma io non ho voglia di ricominciare, non voglio cancellare il quadro che a fatica ho dipinto finora.
Apro gli occhi e sono davanti al ristorante di Aria. Sorpreso. Mi ero scordato to be left to come here. I look at the tables outside, filled with people. A girl's back, with notebook and pen in hand, takes an order. It 'a back that I have never seen. You open the door of the van: it is Michael who greets me and start operations immediately to let me down.
"And who would back that beautiful?" I ask.
"It will be Daniel '
" No, Daniel, and I know that back when the dream'
"Gina?", Michael continues to respond without looking, intended to release the wheelchair from the straps that lock.
"Gina from behind like a rugby player, maybe if you stop for a second look and we'll end with the interrogation." Si ferma giusto l’attimo necessario per darle un’occhiata distratta:
«Non l’ho mai vista»
«Ma è il ristorante della tua fidanzata o no?»
«Sarà nuova».
Come potrei vivere un presente senza Michele. Non sembra esserci cosa in grado di sorprenderlo o coglierlo impreparato.
Entriamo nel ristorante e veniamo accolti da Aria e da suo padre Gianfranco, romano doc vecchio stampo. Mentre lo saluto, la ragazza che avevo visto di schiena mi passa davanti con due portate in mano. Mi sorride. E’ un sorriso dolce, solare anche se di passaggio. Un sorriso indaffarato. E un bel viso.
Gianfranco ci sistema di fuori, vicino alla cucina:«Così magni prima».
I greet the rest of the staff and I do list the specials. So I already know that ordinerrò pasta with clams. I'm going to term, and this is the period that I like clams. In a little 'pass to the risotto with prawns rather than noodles with squid. A bottle of cool white and one second.
"Who eats?", Here it is again with napkins and cutlery in hand.
"I drink," he says with his usual phlegm Michele.
"I eat and, if there's, I would drink too."
smile again. Covered and the system brings me bread. Thank you.
eat the clams and also ordered the grilled tuna, washed down with wine. They are behind compared to other tables outside, I would like to know where, look to find his eye. Hope that comes close to exchange a joke. To live that moment of blissful conflict when you do not know where to find the courage to open his mouth. But the wheelchair is locked under the table and my neck is not as mobile as ever. I could ask for air to produce or bring to the table, but I do not want tricks or strategies. I just have a sincere look. I finish dinner without seeing it. Also because my table is surrounded by the rest of the staff more owners. I conclude that she is going mad behind the rest of the restaurant.
"We will not be too many who served 'I'm the table?" As if he had read my mind and with all the load of its Roman, Gianfranco restart the dormant brains of the workers who take up their positions. They seemed to work just for my table. How could I withstand this without the people around me, I knew after the accident, which I love deeply.
finish dinner and wine. I am free from the clutches of the table and I start back to the wall to be able to watch it. The tables outside are empty and not even the shadow of her. In fact it is already midnight. My wanderings had me arrive late.
finally see it come out. He dissolved the hair. He opens the car door and looks at me.
"Hello," the cry almost involuntarily.
"Hello," he replies with the same smile solar, less busy this time but always in passing. Join in the car but kept watching. It 's half hidden by a plant, but I feel his eyes on him. The look sincere. Stay still there, still with the machine in motion. I would be if I could get up to convince you that you have to stay, you are committing a mistake which you will regret forever. And who knows what else I should be able to invent for not letting you go. But you're leaving the parking lot and I'm stuck here. It 's midnight, you're Cinderella, and run away. But do not let shoes, and I'm not Prince Charming.
Maybe next time you stop for a few minutes, perhaps speaks to me, maybe I'll think a bit ', maybe you do not remember not even seen me.
And then I'll take a flower.
This story attached to the stem.
And the knowledge that someone could not bear to live a different present.
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