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Mens (english version), Page 1

Quelli di ZEd

Luca Poggi



  Copyright © 2012 Zerounoundici Edizioni

  ISBN: 978-88-6307-473-4

  Cover: Image


  The sound of the glass that broke him stopped for an instant the jaws of my relatives.

  Nobody lifted the head: the small ones struck me a distracted glance, Daylight it approached me the napkin without looking me.

  The breakfast slowly strained me on the right forearm and I remained to stare for a longer time at her of the necessary one, while I was grabbing the napkin with the left hand. I intercepted the colaticcio on the elbow with a vague sense of disgust.

  «You should talk to doctor Berliz of it» it said Daylight starting over chewing.

  Berliz was my psychiatrist. I shaken the head. My daughter was always too much protective in my comparisons, but in reality I knew very well why you/he/she happened. It was the third glass that I grinded that week.

  I didn't make him/it volutamente; rather I tried to check me as, I was able. I had become with my body good.

  But I didn't succeed in accepting that my breakfast was reduced to an admixture of chemical substances tasteless.

  My brain needed it to survive, certain, but inside of me I didn't want to give up giving her a different meaning; I remembered very well when I was a true man and my wife it was still in life: then the breakfast was an occasion to be together with the family.

  Every time I hoped to recreate that moments of serene complicity, but every time was a disappointment.

  I freed me some fragments of glass and I ended to clean me.

  I would have had to use a plastic dispenser, to eat, but I hesitated: it was too much antiseptic.

  «Children, the school» it said Daylight.

  Teo and Gena finished the milk with the cereals in an instant, I will dictate a kiss to his/her/their mother and they wore the backpacks.

  The driver of the pulmino was already before house. Teo me said a fist of regard making to tinkle my steel belly. Gena didn't abdicate his/her basin. I could not reciprocate, naturally. Neither I could perceive the touch of his/her red labbrucces. But I appreciated the gesture. I saw his/her children disappear over the door.

  «What programs you have today?» he/she asked Daylight clearing.

  «Exercises of posture, believe» I answered.

  I got up me from table with attention. I was learning to be less awkward, but it is not banal to stir when don't have tactile sensibility in the whole body except that in the hands.

  And that had been a true conquest; the doctor Of the you/he/she had placed some sensors of pressure inside my fingers and on the palm. They were simple, but I had employed six months to succeed in using them: my brain always owed riprogrammarsi for the use of new receptors.

  To the beginning the brain didn't understand; I had everything one whole psychotic symptoms that you/they brought me to the nth refuge.

  Then I gradually connected what, I saw to touch from my hands to that that the mind it felt; now I was able to know if and thing I touched. Not as for a human hand, but I could grab and to move the things without looking her.

  «Be', I imagine that we will see us later. I go to the university» it said Daylight. «Hi, dad.»

  I would have blushed for the irritation, if I/you had had a face. I moved my large head toward of her, even if I didn't need it, to see her/it. There was a band of optic sensors everything around my head and they worked rather well. Above all I did him/it not to upset: someone that observes yourself from the nape has to put quite a lot to uneasiness.

  «My name is Angel» I said, giving a flat intonation to my voice.

  Daylight and the boys were my family, but for their self I was Angel. My daughter quadrated me with his/her typical ironic look.

  «Also of this you should talk to Berliz.»

  I sent forth a low whistle of protest, as it often happened me when I was irritated. My brain modulated the frequency climbing to the ultrasounds. The neighbor's dog takings to furiously bark.

  I made a consistent effort to succeed in stopping me. The unintentional demonstration of alienità embittered my humor. Daylight changed expression; he/she greeted me with the hand and it climbed on the scooter inserting the helmet.

  «Now yes that you resemble me, daughter» I murmured staring at her/it with the metallic capoccione leaned on the glasses.

  I saw the profile of my face reflected on the crystal: an iron can without prominences, with plates protection raincoats of the sensors for sight and hearing circularly prepared around my head.

  I went to my room and I taken the mash directly pouring him/it to me in throat from the knapsack of the hospital. I manually closed again the orifice that only a reckless person would have called mouth. This time I had not poured a drop.

  I dressed me, I went out and I closed the door of entry behind of me.

  Luckily university was near house; that morning I didn't bear the perplexed looks of the passer-bys.