Once in Rome, D'Agata before going down the alley at night, you had to make sure that there was the Ghost if you did not want to be assaulted with a barrage of curses and insults that would have persuaded him to retrace his steps the most reckless man in this world. But there was only one way to make sure the presence of the spectrum, given the almost complete darkness of the dimly lit alley. Follow it. Sometimes it was fine. The Spectrum had not yet arrived, or that night they would come at all. Sometimes I was wrong. The spectrum was in full "treatment." Anyway, at the risk of dying of a broken heart, people preferred to lengthen the ride, hoping that sooner or later the police have taken away the unlucky one that, in broad daylight in any place, for the refinement of his clothes el 'fascinating class of which he was soaked, you would have mistaken for a wealthy industrialist and a prominent lawyer.
That nickname was saddled for the fine white hair like cobwebs floating in the night like a shining in the dark jellyfish marine waters. What did the Ghost in the alley and why accanisse against anyone who dared cross it I found out during a cold winter night, when I had the good fortune of being invited to dinner by way Magliotti.
The Civic was 34 and the east facade of the building is situated directly on Agate Lane. I knew of the spectrum. I once experienced the terror of his voice quivering with vehemence furious that forced me to change direction when I decided to cut to the lane to shorten the journey.
In the elevator I hoped that at least one room of the apartment I could see the narrow and wet road below, which I can say I had never seen another set in a darkness greater.
Duilio, the landlord told me that the only room that opened onto the alley D'Agata was the bathroom, so I did accompany us, I opened the window and peered down into one couple stroll on the cobbled transparencies from the rain until a few minutes before. But I heard no cry. Nobody rushed on boyfriends barking like a drunken demon and they came all the way, unharmed, after disappearing around the corner.
- E 'soon. - Duilio said, for which it was clear the reason for my curiosity. I
scostai the windowsill and I turned towards him.
- get your opinion? - I asked.
- now comes every day. -
- What time? -
- usually around eleven. -
Duilio told me that the most enjoyable evenings spent with Benedetta had appeared at the window of the tub watching the Ghost scare away anyone who dares wander into the alley. He had his work cut out especially on weekends, when the comings and goings became more dense and comically had to run from one end of the alley like a ping pong ball to stop the flow of people mitered as they could. If no one had done anything to bring him out of there because the man was, he explained Duilio, had knowledge of a certain weight of the Carabinieri in arming.
We went to dinner at my insistence, they spoke of the Spectre.
I knew when it was committed to drive through unwelcome, the man remained motionless in the center of the alley, her eyes closed and legs slightly apart. He did not do anything except breathe. Inhaled air, inflating his chest, holding it in your lungs and then blow it out slowly, producing the sound of a ball that flattens. Then, just a step disturbed his concentration, he turned askance towards the entrance of the alley hurling against the poor through no matter who it was. In addition to an endless series of insults babbling incoherent phrases that had to do with the darkness that surrounded him. The best of the city ... dark and the other had no right to take it away! It was his, he had found him first. Fresh, very dark, a dark top quality. He spent the alley
even three, four hours, breathing deeply the black night air and attacking people with delusional speeches from time to time had the bad idea to cut per lane D'Agata. Nothing else.
Nothing else? I wanted to see absolutely!
The dinner was over and my curiosity was mounted as cream. I do not give anything that Duilio monologue about how happy he was, after many trials, I managed to break through as a designer, moved from Milan to Rome. I listened to courtesy, nodding constantly distracted fiddling with the teaspoon of coffee in the cup. To help me was blessed that, getting up to clear the table, told us that it was nearly eleven. Duilio
and I went to the bathroom. It was moved to describe the laboratory which opened on Tuscolana, but his words reached me vague and unimportant.
There it was! I saw it! That hoary head, ten meters below the center of the alley where a streetlight was installed, where the window of a restaurant or a basement lights illuminate the cold walls that surround it. I motioned to
Duilio and pointed wordlessly to the spectrum with a finger. The man was behaving exactly as I had described and Benedetta Duilio during dinner. Still, breathe deeply panting deeply. Did nothing for a while, about a quarter of an hour, when two boys slipped into the alley talking animatedly. With the fury of a lion Specter, mitered their hatred, leaped against the intruders. It is waving, banging his feet, jumped up and down like a wild around a totem.
I could not find any sense in what he was shouting.
The darkness is mine! The darkness is precious!
Pigs thieves! Go steal it from somewhere else!
The boys looked terrified. The highest, which occurred after realizing where they were reading the address on the marble slab, his friend yanked the jacket. Without turning his back to the two spectra did back off. The man seemed to calm down. He stroked the sleek coat with the palms of the hands and returned to the center of the lane, taking the bizarre breathing exercise in total concentration.
Once in Rome, D'Agata before going down the alley at night, you had to check that there was the Ghost ... But not anymore.
The Spectrum is dead.
One evening a group of hooligans away from Manchester for the quarter Champions Roman sensed that the shortest way to the Sir Daniel's Pub was turn lane for D'Agata ...
The police, after the first investigation on the victim beaten and bruised, made an extraordinary discovery.
Spectre, who was named Eugene lizard, was born in 1878. He was 132 years. In his apartment was found a diary whose pages reveal the mystery of his nights in the dark alley.
The darkness inside our body. I think about it constantly. There is light within us?
In the lungs, veins, kidneys, spleen, rectum, prostate, cavity, mucous membranes, including a bone and the other is total darkness or a little 'light from the outside can seep through the skin? The body as
box. Dark container.
I'd like to be honest the level of darkness within me, as the port below it everywhere I go, wherever I sit, as I speak, cry, work.
the dark. I feel the body, like every living cell, which is essential such as blood.
has become ill too.
Think what you want, give me crazy, but I feel terribly urgent need of a transfusion of darkness, like a closed room for too long need to open the windows to breathe again.
of good dark. The best in town. Fresh, vital!
And I know where to land it!
no longer live in Rome. I did as Duilio, but in reverse. Milan! At 20:00
TG of a service attracts my attention. A
posted by the entrance of the alley behind D'Agata has become, apparently, the main place of pilgrimage city. Breathe the air of night, said the journalist, is rejuvenating! The skepticism of scientists persuaded the hundreds of visitors who flock to the street every night. No mention of Eugene "Spectrum" lizards. Soon the city of Rome will open the alley to the public only in specific time slots for a fee. The reporter takes a step to the left, allowing the cameraman to frame the alley in depth. Women, men, old and even a couple of distraught children brought there by their parents sniff the air as nocturnal animals, absorbing the healing power of the dark alley D'Agata.
Maybe I'm wrong, but the crowd, with eyes closed and my nose, I seem to recognize Duilio.
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