I decided to go home. I do not know where, I do not know nemmneno. Persisted in a state of semi-consciousness that alien from the reality around me. It will not be the first time that I find myself wandering the streets who are familiar with the soles of my shoes. And I was almost ashamed to say to myself, even the beat of my heart. A man without a face, although I must say I am from the only vision, flash, I had him, has just entered the yard. I would not even notice him if he had not flown, including the railings of the gate of his house down, a cigarette butt. Still orange, crackling at the beginning of the filter. Straight on the sidewalk, launched in clip between the thumb and forefinger. A gesture repeated over time, probably insignificant to him now. But what struck me somehow ... If for no other reason why the cigarette was likely to finish me in the face. But my reaction was to look for the package or what's left in the pocket of the jacket. I simply turned to the first intersection I found. And it is turning into one of those little streets seemingly all the same, I hear it. Again. Comes as a slap in the face. That as a slap of disrespect or blame has but very little. A certain amount of happiness I suddenly rises from his face. Cheeks, there, where he placed his palms cold. And 'being winter, it has the scent and texture. I can feel, is palpable. I walk alone, no one is around. Only two parallel rows of parked cars and possibly some random beam that pierces the golden mist that seems to wrap around the world, almost in a prayer. I decided to go home, I slip into my car. One of those next to the sidewalk, one as the others. Change direction, and a brighter light makes me instinctively raise his head. It will be a second floor, third perhaps, next to a house covered with ivy and morning glories. A window with nothing to say, covered in length by a white tent clean, almost transparent. The light is refracted by the plot noble, almost imperceptible, the curtain fabric. A light lounge. The light that radiates throughout the room and through the curtain is equal to a lamp that I've seen. In my house? Maybe. I still feel there was already behind those curtains. But I do not remember having at the moment, I want to dig to find it, I can not think of anything but the image itself, captured from my mind. It seems to me the sun. But it also seems to be part of the landscape along with the fog, streetlights, and silence. I got the car. As I have seen so many other people, especially at this time, I lock myself in the cockpit. An act that seems to me noble, and which serves to disconnect for a while, for a moment, the contact with reality, and focus on themselves. I Instead, I will do the opposite. Now, just sit on the front left seat, I feel that the cabin around me. She hugs me. It also embraces the fog around us. E 'thick, full, almost more than the autumn. But what most distinguishes it from previous months is the color. E 'orange, refracts the light of street lamps that meets the surface. Leaning a bit 'towards the windshield I can see from here I can see how shows the profiles of the roof where they lay, light. It brings up this place a new city. Magica.
