While I was moving in the light of that Roman sunset and I thought that what had been an intense weekend with Mary, who lived among the white color of the monuments and museums, including the cool of the alleys and squares of the heat, between the unexpected laughter and the words just whispered.
In an attempt to carve a niche for myself and time to rearrange the ideas I have directed one of the rowdy pizzerias around here, but in terms of a diner. In one wing of the wide local
a girl playing a piano black hair, long, gathered seplicità crowned by his clear face from abroad, and a dark dress with golden flowers, making it binding up the sides emphasize the shoulders.
Sitting at the table behind her I was listening to his notes, following the movement of the hands on the keyboard, and its sway to the slow time of interpretation.
Perhaps sensing my presence is not far away, the girl after a while 'hath been turned to me with a look that seemed like a joking request for approval, with his chin resting on fist, and perhaps with an expression that betrayed the my thoughts away, I smile in my turn, she has turned to the piano, has taken over to play two more songs, for turning a second time with his gaze between the playful and the question, and my cross again, then ... pulled a score by Morricone, and began playing the tune "Playing Love" from the soundtrack of "The Legend of the Pianist on the Ocean" thinking back to those notes I like to imagine that he deliberately wanted to cherish my memories, including sweetness and melancholy, and help me find Mary.
finished the song I got up and went to meet him when I reached a coin tray on the floor m'è seemed surprised, as if it were an event came too soon, his "Thanks" I said with a smile " Thank you, "I left to resume luggage and getting ready for the start.
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