Stories and News No. 52:
The Story:
Flowers.
No, sorry... roses.
Yes, roses.
Roses are my life.
Not my passion, but it is not the same thing, isn’t it?
I arrive with dusk, smiling, with flowers toward you.
The Story:
Flowers.
No, sorry... roses.
Yes, roses.
Roses are my life.
Not my passion, but it is not the same thing, isn’t it?
I arrive with dusk, smiling, with flowers toward you.
I am insistent, I admit.
It almost seems that I force you to buy...
Maybe it is true, maybe, if I might seriously force you, I would do.
Many of you could do the same in my place, but it is better not to know.
I understand that.
Some of you respond to my laughter, someone else makes a denial gesture even before I am close; another one wants to be nice and asks me where I come from.
And finally who an open bag arrives.
God bless the bag and who invented this wonderful fountain that quenches my tramp throat.
There are also those who mock me, but if in the end I reach the minimum to start the next day, I can forget them.
Yes, I can forget everything.
I do not erase anything and I do not have, but it is essential to avert the worst.
Flowers… no, roses!
I never really considered important.
Before coming here I had never give them some real value, which can only be related to the concept of money.
It almost seems that I force you to buy...
Maybe it is true, maybe, if I might seriously force you, I would do.
Many of you could do the same in my place, but it is better not to know.
I understand that.
Some of you respond to my laughter, someone else makes a denial gesture even before I am close; another one wants to be nice and asks me where I come from.
And finally who an open bag arrives.
God bless the bag and who invented this wonderful fountain that quenches my tramp throat.
There are also those who mock me, but if in the end I reach the minimum to start the next day, I can forget them.
Yes, I can forget everything.
I do not erase anything and I do not have, but it is essential to avert the worst.
Flowers… no, roses!
I never really considered important.
Before coming here I had never give them some real value, which can only be related to the concept of money.
“The flowers are for women and children,” I would have answered in the past, “perhaps for the grandmothers.”
For the dead, obviously.
I was wrong.
The flow... no, the roses are also for people like me.
For those who wish to be alive.
The News:
The last night inVicenza Bangladesh 12 June 1969 and residing at Piolteno (Milan
For the dead, obviously.
I was wrong.
The flow... no, the roses are also for people like me.
For those who wish to be alive.
The News:
The last night in
Thanks to Maria Rosaria Baldin contribution.
Stories and News: “invented” Stories, fruit of my imagination, inspired by “true” media News.