I saw in the brief moment when his picture popped beyond the window. The sure-footed of those who impractical to dominate the time spent neither too slow nor too fast excite the thick carpet of dry leaves on the sidewalk. His feet follow one another just lingering pace and giving the body long and thin. The heavy coat of cloth swayed with every movement along all of its laws. And his arms, relaxed but not abandoned, accompanied discrete harmony of quell'andatura perfect.
Dressed in black, instilled a certain fear from those strong shoulders and straight. Of which did not seem to notice, too lost in thought. Only clashed with his image, his head full of curls and a disheveled young face but thin and gray.
I had no way to see his eyes, which his hair fell on his face suggesting barely edged profile. But I was sure they were dark and liquid as those of a lost animal. It was about the moment of its passage over that glass. But his reflection in the transparent material was stamped as the trail of a comet. And his life was immediately clear to me
0 comments:
Post a Comment