That night I knew that my father would come home with the specific name of the city where we would be transferred. Since mother was dead was nothing more as before. Our house had become alien, empty, silent. Held me back until the closing time at the library because I could not bear to be alone at home.
I told my father came home at the usual time but had now become accustomed to hanging around the neighborhood until ten minutes before his arrival. If I could not stay in the library I wandered through my neighborhood, walking slowly and trying not to think about anything. I can not say that would make me feel better about being good but I was still working there and I decided to take as long as necessary.
I did not care for dinner because I had also returned home in time would still not ready because they do not have the strength to enter the kitchen.
In the sink there was still one of his cup that my father, every night before going to wash our dishes, gently put aside. Our dishes, in which he had bought something that warmed before returning home on a rotisserie, were arranged neatly in the dish drainer on the sink. We used two cups, two plates and two glasses per day. Everything else was superfluous.
I was just up in the room when I heard the key turn in the lock.
not called me, I now knew that he would find at home.
I went downstairs and found him sitting in the kitchen: I was waiting.
"Shoot," I said
"Scotland" he said point blank, as if the burning in the mouth that word.
"Scotland?" I asked shocked "I thought rimanessimo at least in this continent"
"Well spoken English," he tried to be ironic.
"I know, but you drive on the other side"
"Not good," he asked looking at me sideways.
"No, that's fine," I said "I have to get used to the idea but that's okay."
"I thought you could start the semester there"
"Which half are you talking about?" I asked, eyes wide. We were in the middle of the year and I had just started to take the exams of the courses that I was following, despite everything that had happened in the last month.
"Well, the second "and said it seemed that it was a question rather than an answer.
"This year?!? Dad seriously, when you start working there? "
" On January 1, no wait is the first festival, Jan. 2 "
" Oh ... my ... God "I said sank into a chair.
"We have a month and a half ahead of us," he said cheerfully, trying to play down in my head but I could not decide quel'era the first thing that scare. I had just dealt with the return to school with all the eyes that were followed after the death of my mother, I was strong enough to get back and concentrate on books so as to obtain results above expectations, I had accepted the idea of \u200b\u200bchanging the city without a real logical explanation but I thought that my father wanted to escape from that country that was never really his and the house, where every speck of dust was reflected my mother.
Change city was an acceptable idea, but change state would be faced. Change continent was not an idea that I had taken into account.
Changing the sense of driving was madly away from my nightmare. I was not completely safe driving in the streets of my city, maybe going against what I would hand combined!
sighed slightly and made the most obvious question "How calls the city? "
" Ayr "
" Ayr? "
" It 's a beautiful city, "said my father, so too warm.
"How do you know?" I asked, arching a skeptical eyebrow.
"Well, on google there are some beautiful pictures," said waiting for my direction.
"Excellent ..." I could only say. Then I got up, walked out of the kitchen and went upstairs to my room: my energy needed to blow off steam and a kitchen packed with delicate pottery was not the appropriate place.
I walked into the room and closed the door behind me. I closed my eyes and tried to modulate the strength, but as always I succeeded only for a short moment. A second later books of the shelf above my desk were flown to the ground and so the lamp rice paper that was on my bedside table. The chair rests on a veritable mountain of clothes and ground was broken on the cabinet doors that I had always left wide open as they were closed abruptly.
"Everything okay?" Came from the floor pickles alarmed voice of my father.
"Shit" I whispered. I had forgotten to turn on the radio as I used to care for my father always took care of my mental excesses, and I have learned to disguise it somehow. With music blaring achieve the purpose.
'Fine' I yelled back. All
well, I repeated in my head.
I told my father came home at the usual time but had now become accustomed to hanging around the neighborhood until ten minutes before his arrival. If I could not stay in the library I wandered through my neighborhood, walking slowly and trying not to think about anything. I can not say that would make me feel better about being good but I was still working there and I decided to take as long as necessary.
I did not care for dinner because I had also returned home in time would still not ready because they do not have the strength to enter the kitchen.
In the sink there was still one of his cup that my father, every night before going to wash our dishes, gently put aside. Our dishes, in which he had bought something that warmed before returning home on a rotisserie, were arranged neatly in the dish drainer on the sink. We used two cups, two plates and two glasses per day. Everything else was superfluous.
I was just up in the room when I heard the key turn in the lock.
not called me, I now knew that he would find at home.
I went downstairs and found him sitting in the kitchen: I was waiting.
"Shoot," I said
"Scotland" he said point blank, as if the burning in the mouth that word.
"Scotland?" I asked shocked "I thought rimanessimo at least in this continent"
"Well spoken English," he tried to be ironic.
"I know, but you drive on the other side"
"Not good," he asked looking at me sideways.
"No, that's fine," I said "I have to get used to the idea but that's okay."
"I thought you could start the semester there"
"Which half are you talking about?" I asked, eyes wide. We were in the middle of the year and I had just started to take the exams of the courses that I was following, despite everything that had happened in the last month.
"Well, the second "and said it seemed that it was a question rather than an answer.
"This year?!? Dad seriously, when you start working there? "
" On January 1, no wait is the first festival, Jan. 2 "
" Oh ... my ... God "I said sank into a chair.
"We have a month and a half ahead of us," he said cheerfully, trying to play down in my head but I could not decide quel'era the first thing that scare. I had just dealt with the return to school with all the eyes that were followed after the death of my mother, I was strong enough to get back and concentrate on books so as to obtain results above expectations, I had accepted the idea of \u200b\u200bchanging the city without a real logical explanation but I thought that my father wanted to escape from that country that was never really his and the house, where every speck of dust was reflected my mother.
Change city was an acceptable idea, but change state would be faced. Change continent was not an idea that I had taken into account.
Changing the sense of driving was madly away from my nightmare. I was not completely safe driving in the streets of my city, maybe going against what I would hand combined!
sighed slightly and made the most obvious question "How calls the city? "
" Ayr "
" Ayr? "
" It 's a beautiful city, "said my father, so too warm.
"How do you know?" I asked, arching a skeptical eyebrow.
"Well, on google there are some beautiful pictures," said waiting for my direction.
"Excellent ..." I could only say. Then I got up, walked out of the kitchen and went upstairs to my room: my energy needed to blow off steam and a kitchen packed with delicate pottery was not the appropriate place.
I walked into the room and closed the door behind me. I closed my eyes and tried to modulate the strength, but as always I succeeded only for a short moment. A second later books of the shelf above my desk were flown to the ground and so the lamp rice paper that was on my bedside table. The chair rests on a veritable mountain of clothes and ground was broken on the cabinet doors that I had always left wide open as they were closed abruptly.
"Everything okay?" Came from the floor pickles alarmed voice of my father.
"Shit" I whispered. I had forgotten to turn on the radio as I used to care for my father always took care of my mental excesses, and I have learned to disguise it somehow. With music blaring achieve the purpose.
'Fine' I yelled back. All
well, I repeated in my head.
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