The bar, greeting the owner with a slow nod in which you thanked him for the chat you had with him.
Outside, you stopped for a while, looking at you around a bit lost in your thoughts.
You was thinking what Philip had said you, replying at that question you have pulled down, as a jolly of a game that, one day of those, it would been revealed.
Once Jolly’s card was been throw on the table, the mysterious girl behind the wooden curtain would have a name, and behind that name, it would been a story, and that story was, slowly enveloping your being, even if it was the story that Philip knew, and it was that one, that she had tell him.
But even if, it was a minimal part of her story, it was just enough for you to enter in that world that it has been cruel with her, and defeat all that things still made her feel shy.
You held back the breathe, for then throw it away, when in your head has jumped again, one of the latest phrase Philip had said like this, maybe without realize, cleaning the counter.
“Daria has noticed voice: she said me «it’s the most beautiful i ever heard», and each time i can, i chat with you, for make her hear it… it will be weird, but she has very few things that makes her goes on, and one of these, is your voice.”
When Philip has finished, you remained breathless, and you have turned toward my empty table.
And that phrase was hammering your head, looking toward that building next to the bar: Philip had indicated you that small window, and in that exact instant, you had seen a shadow moving inside, and without realizing you have whispered my name hoping i could hear it, but what just you have seen, has been another my passage trough the small window.
That evening, the neighborhood was empty, nobody in the street: it seemed a ghost town, and the only rhytmical sound that resounding around, it were your steps, and your breath that were going at unison, with a soft breeze that little by little, was assuming a creepy form: the sound of the leafs of those few trees along the sidewalk, seemed small sighes of invisible beings that delicately slapping your face.
Arrived in front of that rusty gate, you stopped for a while, and you look at you back.
Your desire to get back, there, was became stronger than other thought you had in mind: you have would liked, at least, to pass another bit, under that small window, at least stay till i hadn’t turned off the light, and whisper me a sweet “Goodnight”, but unconsciously, already you was about to enter in your apartment, and you was throwing away the key in the bowl next the grey heavy door.
You was in the middle of milion of feelings, and the words of Philip about me, were bombing you.
Now, you knew me a little better, and my shadow trough that white fluttering curtain, was the last image of me you had in your mind.
You threw yourself on the sofa, still with the leather jacket, and by chance, you have take a look to the clock on the grandpa’ desk, and your heart stopped for the whole time of those sixty seconds.
Then you have taken again to breathe, and little by little you have closed the eyes, with the heart still in throat.
After you got calmed, you have take a deep breathe, and slowly, you have closed definitely your eyes.
The latest thing that you have remember, has been you had whispered my name, and your heart has restart again to beat hard.”
Listen to it ⇓⇓