Tuesday, March 30, 2010

I Need Help My Nose Is Humongous

the Warrior - Tome 2


Akron is a bit 'slower than we thought. But that's okay. We are all working on different things: George, Nicholas, Luke and I. The second script is ready, but it will take some 'before seeing him again in the slopes of Nicholas and Color Luca.

waiting will post from time to time some new sketches. Here the characters, nothing definitive, of course, that you will find in the second register. Akron, seems to have given an alarm clock with the long hair and beard.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Sugarpaste Ballet Slipper

Philip Roth


"Italy is a nation of writers. See, I think, that many more people who write, what you see. .. I mean . You see the paradox? "
"I understand."

I was trying to go to the bathroom. But Darius did not understand. He held me there in half. The mention of his head I had done, the rush I had expressed, but did not seem to understand.

"When you say that you make, what do you mean?"
"What the hell does that mean?"
"I mean. Who told you that you're a writer?"
"Ah, in that sense. It 'something I have already asked. I was wondering if I was a year or not. If there was a kind of license. I thought I had the conviction of to be a writer when some casa editrice mi avesse pubblicato..."
"Così è andata, no? Hai fatto quel fumetto per la Francia, mi hanno detto che è andato bene..."
"Chi te lo ha detto si è sbagliato di grosso. Comunque, anche dopo aver firmato un contratto non è cambiato niente."
"Quindi non ti senti ancora uno scrittore."
"Ora sì."
"E come lo sai?"
"Lo so perché scrivo. Tutto qui. Continuo a scrivere. Vedi, scrivere è diverso da qualsiasi altra cosa si possa fare. E' l'unica azione umana che non ha un committente."
"This is not true. You will have a publishing house that tells you what to do about your job, a public, things like that ..."
"No, Dario. I speak of the beginning. Genesis. Before the publishing house, before the public. In the case of comic books before I even thought the designer. Now and then you can think of something and feel the need to write some part. One of the few moments of total freedom. You should try it. "
"do not follow. Do not you think you should have to define this success?"
"No, anyway, I'm sorry, I gotta pee."
"Oh, I'm sorry you did not understand."
"But we continue this conversation."
"Okay."

Dario out of the bathroom was gone. He took photographs and he was gone. I meant to read this passage from Roth months ago I had read on Wikipedia. And that was what had convinced me that I was a writer, although I know that Dario mold panels and advertising photography for his small company of solar installations.

"Today, every now and then, turning back, back on my life as a long speech that I heard. The rhetoric is sometimes original, sometimes nice, sometimes inconsistent (the speech of the unknown) sometimes manic, sometimes practical, sometimes as the sudden prick of a needle, and I listen from time immemorial: How think, not how to think, how to behave, how not to behave, and those who admire those who hate, and when cos'abbracciare escape, what is exciting, what's exhausting, what is commendable, what surface, what is left , what is disgusting, and how to stay a pure soul. It seems to me that talking is not an obstacle for anyone. This is perhaps a consequence of my going around years with the air of one who had a great need for someone to addressing the word. But whatever the reason, the book of my life is a book of voices. When I wonder how I got where I am, the answer surprises me: "Listening."
Philip Roth

Monday, March 8, 2010

Medical Expenses For The Nfl

Sarzana Full Comics 2010

work and live in La Spezia. I work in a service of digital printing, from business cards to large format banners. I also write comics and I am proudly one of the founders of the Cultural Double Shot.

When I hear Full comics that he decided to move from Piacenza in Sarzana am very happy. First of all because I know Sarzana. Sarzana is a place that hardly disappoint, the administration has, over the years, believing in the events that have become national caliber ("antiques show," The books on the street, "" boundless ", etc. ...") and international ("Festival of the Mind"). I say that the organization headed by Salvatore Primiceri has made the right choice. We live La Spezia to Sarzana envying the "life" at night and above all the cultural events that offers its citizens.

Sarzana is the best choice because the comic has already found a welcoming home: Comic House. In the small town in Liguria have passed in recent years, thanks to the comic books of Daniel and Valentina, superstars of comics: Gipi, Garden, Ausonia, Ponticelli, Burchielli, Vess, Eddie Campbell, Vanna Vinci, Toppi, Lloyd, Talbot, Stan, Vauro , Vincino, Cossi, Frezza, Milazzo to name a few.

Then, the icing on the cake. I hear that the fair will be Firmafede fortress. The best place, the perfect show. The fortress know it well because the organization and fitters of "national antiques fair" turn the company I work for posters, banners etc ... The fortress is located in a transition zone, but with a minimum visual communication easily becomes a place of great attraction. A medieval castle in a unique center for pedestrians is the best place to spend the weekend. In theory, the organizers have in my hands a little gem to be enhanced, with the certainty of being able to find their permanent location after Sarzana pilgrimages of the past years, through at least decent results.

The days of the fair, unfortunately, are the same Bilbolbul in Bologna. The founders della Double Shot si dividono in due (siamo in nove, quindi no problem) per garantire una buona presenza in tutte e due le manifestazioni. Ci portiamo dietro, come al solito, gli autori. Se a bologna vanno Liniers e Shadmi, a Sarzana ci portiamo dietro Ausonia e l'esordiente Michele Penco. Pensiamo, come associazione culturale, di fare cosa gradita nell'organizzare due Workshop gratuiti per la manifestazione nelle giornate di sabato e domenica.

Mercoledì 3 marzo , nella pausa pranzo parto dalla Spezia in direzione Lucca per uno scambio di scatoloni con il President D'Uva della DS. Lucca sembra the Mexican border. There beaks just past the toll booth east of Lucca, we open the luggage, we pass a dozen boxes, we smoke a cigarette between laughter and concerns, we said hello to hard and the two and a half back to our respective jobs.

Friday, March 5 take leave from work and drive delivery towards Firmafede. I am a bit 'late. The fair opens at 10 and eight and a half when I arrive. I'm afraid of not being able to set up the whole time. I do not want to find the booth under construction when the first visitors will already be turning for the Banquet looking for some new comic masterpiece. When I get to the fortress I immediately realize that my predictions were far from reality. There is no banner on the main facade. The fortress for a passer-by looks empty and inaccessible. The totem at the entrance have signs of the "festival of the mind" in early September. Above, attached with tape two posters 70X100 Full comics are about to leave the piece pushed by the wind. The impression is that those 70X100 belong to a community center, or an event long over. But no. Everything has yet to begin. The area which is the fair market "Vetrone. Appendix modern in the moat of the fortress. The most remote. I am stunned. Not only the facade is bare, but entered into no signs indicating to visitors the hot zone of Full Comics. Luckily I know the road. Within the outdoor walkway that leads to "Vetrone" and turned the corner, I understand that we have yet to start but everything is already done. In front stands still 4metriX8metri the banner, which I've printed this summer. The word is "XXX national exhibition of antiques." I make five or six trips back and forth and every time I turn the corner and I see the banner I am convinced of the failure. Everything is already written. I wonder who the genius who thought to visual communication. The stands are nice, maybe the best I've ever seen in the many trade fairs I've done the last few years. But even in this case are the usual fair of antiques. The organization has found it all ready. I still wonder "what have they done?". Then comes Gio, and I understand that for us the DS everything goes great. That this is a reunion for us, a time for more fun and fuck. On Friday, the fortress is empty. Enter maybe 20 paying passengers. But there's Checks, Ausonia, Bruno, Lisa, Nico, Giuseppe, Farinon, Balls and Mane. You fuck as usual, but holed up in the cold because the organization does not turn on the heaters. Then I know the guys at the International School of Comics in Reggio are in hand, nice. We get a laugh over the rubble and get to eat all'Osteria dei Sani con gli amici di Comic House. Si mangia bene, ci si diverte ma tutti, rigorosamente con le dita incrociate.

Sabato 6 Marzo i riscaldamenti sono accesi. Io e Gio abbiamo un incontro. Il pensiero costante è che non ci sarà nessuno. E invece no. Incontriamo casualmente i partecipanti al bar, cinque minuti prima dell'inizio. Ci dicono che hanno cercato la stanza ma non l'hanno trovata. "Nessun problema ragazzi, non l'hanno segnalata, ma io so dove si trova. Prendiamo un caffè e andiamo". Instauriamo un clima informale e ci dirigiamo alla stanza che però è lucchettata. Could not be accessed without the keys. We turn to the direction that is intent on not selling the books " Editions Voilier. not know anything. We are told to turn in the meantime that the organizer has fled. He says he's sick. Credere.Dopo I will wait a minute I turn my balls. Let the kids go on the lawn, and we do a good chat an hour and a half. We see their work. At the end seem to be happy, thank you. They come from Rome and Bergamo. People very good and polite. If I did travel 500 km to go to a lawn, I would send to fuck the editors of Workshop free of all responsibility. Saturday Pence adds to the caravan. I've convinced me to come, I'm glad to see him again. The trend is that the day before. A wonderful reunion with friends. If you enter 150 is paying a big party. At half past six Checco and I go to collect their prizes. In this case, "the best publisher" and "best short stories." This, unfortunately, I do not even softened a bit '. The grounds for winning the best publisher there is "always stand for their original and lively." We are asked to smile for photos. We can not do even a little '. We do not want to switch from "hard men", conceited rock star who spit on premiums because they are too "well" for such things. The awards make us pleasure. But it was clear that the organization of the comic strip, exhibitions, the content did not matter a saw. About exhibitions. There are some jump due to lack of frames. Saturday inform the band that I'm going to leave the show. Mondays are back to work and this one Sunday at five land is preferable. At the end we decided to bring the ninety percent of the registers in Florence making it more agile departure on Sunday. We remain, but we decide, given the turnout, to arrive at a quarter past and let us only the afternoon.

Sunday March 7, is a quarter to one. I'm with Bruni to wash the car in Santo Stefano. I get a call from Michele Penco. "Hello Sam, here I am told that my name is not there. No problem, I'll pay if ..."
"You're not in the list of guests at the hotel?"
"Apparently not."
"I'll call you in a minute, do not pay shit and you're peaceful."

I sling into a fortress Penco name that I pass the front desk. Pass the phone babbling apologies to the organizer, and errors can resolve the situation. Pence comes to stand with the two Farinon.
The workshop room has always lock, heaters, given the turnout on Saturday, I'm off again. Freezes. Eye, and being generous paying another 100. Come to our stand a man who writes for "Fumo di China." We are complimented for the catalog, buy and Macanudo Band Secure. Li puff stand. Then come back and bolus injection of compliments. I'm hungry and I have to go to the bathroom. So go out and go in the yard of the fortress. E 'in place of a concert Cosplayer. There will be 50 people, none of these appeared at Vetrone with publishers. Cosplayer on stage pretending to be from Friends of Maria de Filippi. I hear screaming into the microphone phrases like "Do you fight as if you were tronista", "Talk about imitating Maria de Filippi. I am embarrassed, as when I saw Amber on Mediaset to 11 years. That shame empathy. Back in the desert. The only people you are chatting stand personnel. I talk to the boy from Arcadia, with the publishers of his friend Mark on-line. I know the guys in the booth Tunuè, she always has a smile and is friendly and helpful. They are professionals, not me. I am pissed. I read a report on written event live from Full Comics. Talk about a parallel world. Celebrates the successful treatment and the presence of the organization. He says that no one felt abandoned. Then insert the allusions, without saying names, speaking vaguely of people, unpleasant situations. He launches into a challenging game to write vague accusations and then be able to respond to possible criticism on the grounds of not being understood, understood. It seems to be in a Lynch film. In the end they are exhausted. Ausonia load with a box of comics and mail it back with the courts in Florence. Then, with Bruni Farinon and run away before seven.

'm in the car, The Bruni is taking seven to € Sushi Japanese restaurant. I am reminded of Daniel and Valentina Comic House and the halls incazzatura me. I light a cigarette and brooding. I think the ass that has been made in the past ten years to convince the administration of Sarzana the comic is a noble art. I think the reception that they have always given to authors and publishers. Professionalism that have to maintain and strengthen working relationships, which almost always end up becoming friends. And I'm even more angry thinking about how they were put in half by the organizers of this exhibition, put together by people who not only cartoon he beat his balls, but they are completely unable to organizational communications. Comic House è stato, durante la fiera, l'unico punto di riferimento credibile. Sono gli unici che si sono scusati per cose di cui non erano responsabili. Prendo il cellulare e li chiamo. Gli dico che mi dispiace, ma sono a smontare uno stand enorme. Anche nel nulla, hanno fatto le cose come andavano fatte.

Full Comics sembrava un'autogestione liceale. Ma mancavano le paglie, le ragazze e i mazzi di carte.

Lunedì 8 Marzo L'organizzazione è scappata da Sarzana.

post some pictures, to understand what happened. Without replicas can convoluted.

space that the organization has dedicated to Tito Faraci, a sacred monster of Italian comics. (Here's the first day of the exhibition at 15.30.)








































Tuesday, March 2, 2010

How Long Before See Results From Zumba

Slave of fate - 4th chapter


My mind was wandering probing them every last recess of my subconscious. I could feel your body swaying as if suspended in the air resulting in a very peculiar feeling.
I tried to open my eyes, but it was as if nothing more than respond to my commands: insubordination sure. My body was rebelling against me, not happy with the way they treated him in recent weeks.
Not that I cared a girlfriend in fact, certainly, that of thinking was too difficult a task, rather, better to remain so, still, far from dolore, lontana dalla realtà, lontana da tutto.
Se avessi potuto avrei dimenticato ogni cosa, avrei abbandonato ogni ricordo, ogni luogo, ogni volto o risata, come avrei felicimente dimenticato ogni altra cosa della mia vita.
Certo non era una cosa molto coraggiosa, ma ero stanca, così dannatamente stanca, da non voler più avere a che fare con niente che mi ricordasse che un tempo ero stata viva e felice.
Tutto quello che desideravo ora era restare lì nel bel mezzo del nulla, priva di coscienza, continuando a tenere strenuamente gli occhi chiusi al mondo e a me stessa.
In quel preciso momento non sapevo dove mi trovavo, ne cosa mi stesse succedendo, non avevo la forza per cercare anche solo di capire e dare un senso and all the rest, as said before, I had not even the will.
The only thing that gave me the certainty of being alive and not about to make the long journey to the kingdom of the Gods, was the constant pain and provocative dall'alzarsi abasement of my chest.
Every breath was a searing reminder of life that still flows in me, the rest were just a tangled set of feelings is not too important.
After a while I think I lost consciousness, feeling oblivion ready to quit on me and swallow me to get away from even that small glimmer of rationality rimastomi.
Behind it stood the void, nothingness. Just my life in small drops that dripped ricandendo then one by one there where darkness reigned, and where it hides all the worst that dwells in every human being.
I do not know how long I spent in quell'luogo is called NOTHING, I just know that the initial swing was replaced by a quiver unstable, in turn replaced by a more blessed moment of peace and darkness.
Only once I managed to open my eyes, and what I saw was a large chest on which was pogiata my cheek.
I kept staring in front of me for a few moments, then back to the unconscious swallow again, for that would not be the last time.

The slight breeze gently touched my dress, while her face turned to the sun languidly moved his foot immersed in water the lake in just over two hours' walk from Hellas.
The birds chirping in the background was that moment of peace so perfect. Nothing could ruin him.
I thought back to the party and how the arms of Rolande if I had to close during the dance. I felt the blood salirmi to color the cheeks without reflecting in the water.
With a sigh I raised my foot and I sank down on the grass in bloom, smiling hopefully, already anticipating the next game that certainly would have happened that night.
"Sister"
opened my eyes to the sound of the voice of my brother. "Glauco You"
"Sister" tormented tone of voice made me get up and turn around. As soon as I put
gli occhi sulla sua figura insanguinata lanciai un urlo e corsi verso di lui. "Glauco mio Dio sei ferito"
Mi prese le spalle e le strinse in una morsa "Torna indietro e combatti"
"Non capisco cosa vuoi dire..."
"Combatti!"
Lacrime brucianti scesero sulle mie guancie senza saperne il motivo. Le asciugai e una volta guardatami i palmi li vidi insanguinati. Tutto ad un tratto mi sentii strana e dolorante.
"Glaudo non posso. Non posso farlo" Scossi la testa piangendo e sporcandomi ancora di più.
"Si che puoi, devi! per tutti noi Faolar, fallo per noi che ti amiamo,vai avanti, affronta le avversità a testa alta, e vivi! fallo per amor nostro. Vivi per noi Faolar. Non fuggire dalla realtà, non venire più qui. Affronta tutto e vivi!" Le sue mani mantennero la presa, mentre i suoi occhi erano fissi nei miei come due fuochi ardenti che cercavano di infondermi la sua forza. E allora ricordai tutto quanto. L'invasione, e l'uccisione di mio fratello sotto i miei stessi occhi, sentire la sua vita scivolare via proprio sopra di me, riecchegiando nel silenzio che si era venuto a formare nel mio cuore.
"Mio Dio!" singhiozzai "Mio Dio Glauco" lo abbraccia, stringedolo a me con tutta la forza possibile "Non posso farcela, è cosi difficile, non c'è più amore per me, ne un luogo da chiamare casa. Come posso affrontare tutto questo? c'è solo sofferenza,dolore e solitudine."
Mi stacco da se, accarezzandomi her cheek with his hand. "I wonder how you can own that you've always been so courageous? Remember the time when I was seven, when you're trapped in that hole in the forest for more than four hours?" Anuii his head, trying to wipe my face, "Yes I remember but that's nothing compared to what is happening to me now" He smiled reviving a strand behind her ear, "Of course I know," said a short break before resuming, "but you were a child, and in spite of everything when you have found, we have welcomed, as if I was quiet the whole time playing with dolls, and you do not say anything even when you have tidied up the arm. " broke away from me "You were brave since then, and strong. What was only the promise of the beautiful woman who promised to become "stood in silence trying to absorb his words." Now this woman, heal, and try to make your life what would have been able to always be "I picked up his clothes in
jerking my hands weakly, "But you? how can you? Perhaps if I had not gone back to look for us you would be in my place, you would be here to fight us, "she ex plan then in his hands shaking.
" Maybe. Maybe I'd still be alive and maybe, just maybe, I would be for you. But you know what sister? "I shook my head." I do not deny anything that I did, I loved and I was happy to sacrifice my life in order to have a chance di farcela." lo guardai mentre lasciandomi le mani piano piano si allontanava, vestendo quella tunica macchiata di sangue che era li in ricordo delle ferite mortali che aveva ricevuto.
"Vivi, Faolar, e noi vivremo con te".
"Addio...fratello".


"Ah!" mi alzai a sedere di scatto mentre una scarica di dolore si diffonteva in tutto il corpo.
Una mano gentile si posò sul mio petto spingendomi giù.
Fissai lo sconosciuto con occhi spalancati, mentre questi immergeva un panno in un catino vicino al letto,strizzandolo poi con entrambe le mani.
Quando tornò ad avvicinarsi con la pezza tentai debolmente di allontarmi, impaurita dalle intenzioni dell'uomo.
Guardando i miei patetici tentavi the unknown block me gently by the arm thus forcing him to stop.
"I know it is useless to ask you not to be afraid" looked down at my body, thus following the movement of his own hand while with the patch I cleaned the wounds on the deposits which had formed. "But I still want you to know that I'm not going to hurt you."
As he continued his work as a cleaning of my body recovered full consciousness, and with it the pain that I riappropriai powerful invaded me, leaving me half unconscious and feverish.
I wanted to get away from the bed, away from there, but could not. I was at the mercy of the stranger, naked and wounded, completely at his mercy. The
I looked around slowly, as he continued his work undaunted, ignoring my fearful look and behave as if everything was all natural.
closed my eyes trying to exclude him from my sight.
Living ... this was what I had asked Glaucus.
was something really difficult, but we'd try a little at a time.
"You have a fever," one man's voice was calm and deep.
I opened my eyes back at him for a moment before closing it again. I felt hot and sore, and a state of confusion did not allow me to think over my situation. So it was that allowed to oblivion again to welcome me in his arms.

Fire, screams and death si mischiavano ad immagini di un passato impossibile da dimenticare, che prendeva vita in me come se mille fiamme vive bruciassero tutto quello che era rimasto del mio corpo martoriato.
Non potevo rimanere lì, dovevo muovermi, dovevo fare qualcosa per scacciare quelle visioni terribili, dovevo...
"Stai calma" una mano fresca si posò sulla mia fronte, occupando il posto di quella che doveva essere una pezzuola fredda.
"Ah" appena cercai di alzarmi scariche di dolore si propagarono tra i miei arti, e la debolezza mi schiaccio nuovamente sul materasso.
"Il braccio dell'uomo cinse le mie spalle e mi portò alle labbra dell'acqua, che bevvi con avidità.
"Piano, non esagerare" lo guardai negli occhi mentre I drank more slowly.
"That's so good in small sips." Once I finished drinking riadagio down slowly.
A hand rose to move away a lock of hair from her face, but despite the illness, I was quick to dodge to prevent it from touching me more than it should.
not know the man, and his appearance, as pleasant, it reminded me too that race so cruel.
had treated me with kindness from the first moment we met, on my arrival that the alien and hostile place, helping me to get up at a time of difficulty, but it was still one of them, and some kind gesture was not enough to erase with one shot everything I had been done.
However, after having refused so obviously I was afraid of the reaction that I could raise, and I instinctively covered my face with her hands, waiting for a punishment to my amazement, it never arrived.
slowly lowered his hands by remaining silent. He was still hanging there with his hand and looked sad.
"Do not be afraid of me," he sighed, "I know you is hard to accept, but not like them" He rose from his chair placed near the side of the bed where I lay.
"You have every reason to react like that. Now he rests"
I could hear the sound of his footsteps as he walked away from the room, enable us to relax.
closed my eyes and slipped into a deep sleep.

Non so quanto tempo passò prima di riaprire nuovamente gli occhi, So solo che quando mi svegliai la stanza era fiocamente illuminata dalla luce di una candela.
Mi sentivo ancora debole e dolorante ma, la prima cosa che feci fu controllare che in giro non ci fosse nessuno.
Piano piano mi alzai a sedere, memore del mio stato di salute, una volta riuscitaci mi sentii orgogliosa della mia piccola conquista.
Scostando le coperte pogiai i piedi sul pavimento di legno, fermandomi qualche momento per riprendere le forze. Purtroppo dovevo andare in bagno e volevo farlo prima che arrivasse lo sconosciuto ad aiutarmi. Vagai con lo sguardo per la camera in cerca di un piccolo secchio o qualche altra bacinella, ma l'unica che vidi disponibile was full of bloody water beside my bed.
Apparently I was supposed to come out. Took a deep breath and still moving very slowly began to stand up. Just sollevatami had suffered dizziness and had to lean on the small table on which rested the tray.
My body was covered with bandages in their time of my own blood-stained, immediately I felt a retching nausea.
But despite the dizziness, I went ahead undeterred by putting one step after another until you reach the door frame to which I have relied heavily. I was exhausted, but I feel the same. I threw open the wooden door trembling, and I found out.
The cold wind of the evening suddenly hit me. Closed occhi per un momento cercando di assaporarlo nonostante il mio corpo gemeva dal dolore. Poi liriaprii mandandando indietro la testa e guardando il cielo stellato sopra di me, che si stendeva splendente e magnifico sopra il mondo, gettando sulla terra un velo luminoso che rendeva tutto magico.
Alla fine quando sentii di non farcela piu trovai un piccolo angolino poco lontano dalla porta, che raggiunsi tenendo una mano poggiata alla parete. Finalmente arrivai alla mia meta, accovacciandomi e liberandomi. Poi mi rialzai in piedi e la vista mi si offuscò, mossi qualche passo nella direzione nella quale ero venuta, ma alla fine mi accasciai al suolo, incosciente.
Poi avvertii afferrami sotto le spalle e una mano scivolarmi nella piega delle ginocchia, e lasciai the ground, supported by that man who had helped me many times before.
I looked at him while I was carrying and looked annoyed, or maybe it was his only concern. When he realized that I was looking back at me with those eyes incredibly magnetic. I laid my head on his chest, no forces, as they crossed the threshold of the house again and came riadagiata on the bed, now grown cold.
As soon as I had covered the embers now turned to off and fumbled around the brazier with the flints crouch, and carry out its task. The shots of the two stones rubbed together echoed until the fire was rekindled. Spoke on standing by his voice echoing nella stanza tornata al completo silenzio. “Perché non mi hai aspettato?” attese una risposta che non giunse mai. Strinsi debolmente le coperte al petto temendo una reazione irata. “Capisci quello che hai rischiato? Non sei in grado di muoverti da sola, avresti dovuto aspettarmi” fece una pausa. Più che arrabbiato sembrava accigliato “Bene, rimani anche in silenzio, ora però devo ricontrollarti le fasciature, sono insanguinate, qualche ferita deve essersi riaperta” si avvicinò al letto con fare deciso. Tirò delicatamente le coperte e quando vide che non ero disposta a cedere terreno, mi tolse le mani con decisione scostando poi le coperte da se.
Fissai per la prima volta il mio corpo dopo molto tempo. Grandi strisce di tessuto mi fasciavanovil corpo dal seno fino ad rrivare alle ginocchia. Non pensavo di essere ridotta così male, ecco spiegato il bruciore che mi torturava.
Alcune delle fasciature erano macchiate di sangue.
"Dovrò toglierti queste tre fasce, e per farlo ho bisogno che tu ti alzi a sedere" Anuii debolmente e appena accennai a muovermi mi venne in soccorso cingendomi le spalle con un braccio e aiutandomi fino a quando non mi ritrovai nella posizione desiderata.
Tenevo lo sguardo lontano da quel suo volto che tanto mi turbava, fissando invece le sue grandi mani, dalla forma affusolata.
I calli sui polpastrelli dimostravano che anche lui era avezzo al lavoro e a maneggiare una spada. Tuttavia la sua pelle non had the unpleasant texture of the hands that I had fumbled before his arrival. Apparently his main job was not a soldier, and I was glad this was a detail that helped me to remember that he was not the monster that I had done this.
shame I felt when I bared part, but his calm and smooth movements began to relax as is customary for a small litany.
was why I was surprised when he took a jar of clay pogiata on the shelf near the wall on which was near the small brazier.
Just removed the skin covering the upper end spread in the room the smell inconfondibille dell'Altea and Malva.
I infused a sense of familiarity, recalling the long afternoons spent with my mother in the woods in search of new plants to use. The women of the family
nsotra were healing well and I was educated myself.
What was the man was preparing a poultice to heal skin wounds and promote healing.
I watched him take plenty of ointment and place by two bands, then going to place it directly on the uncovered skin.
A refreshing feeling came and blessed me let out a small moan, for the first time in a long time not in pain.
I turned and saw that the man had left the corner of his mouth lifted in a faint smile, so I raced to turn his head again, feeling the blush rise to color the cheeks already flushed by the fever.
I was silent all the time used to apply the poultice, then before being riadagiata Jun, the man rose from his chair and walked to a small saucepan just removed from the heat.
He filled a glass with what must be a decoction of holly, and then returned to the bed, handing me the glass was also of terracotta.
"Drink," he said peremptorily "We need to help the fever to leave your body."
took the cup from his outstretched hand, and sipped slowly, too weak to mention even a single protest. I was taking care of the rest in an exemplary manner and I had no right to complain.
Once finished drinking, the glass held out again, and then I lie down, happy to fall asleep.
However, before letting me go, I turned my head toward him and with a hoarse voice asked "What is your name?"
I gave away before answering, "My name Ruari Moray" waited a moment before you direct me to the door is wide open "now rests"
soon as I heard the sound of his footsteps move away, closed my eyes and silently repeated the name of my savior.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Color Laser Cost Per Page

I'm getting old?

are out of the party. Smoke a cigarette. In dance, laugh and talk. I do not know anyone and everyone looking at me. Who am I? Who the fuck invited me? The answer seems my cigarette.

"It 'one of way, he eats and drinks at your table for no reason. He's doing worse. We judge. I point the finger at him. He says that you are the ruin. The cultural tsunami that is tearing the 'West. "

Then I think of the boards who sent me and I see Paolo Bruni joins me with a piece of pizza. I begin to feel good.