Written by Zeferino Siani. Posted in Gallerie private
Sabato - 10 giugno 2023
Da sinistra verso destra: Giorgina in braccio a Lella, Giulia tra Lella e la zia, Ale, nonna Olga e Anna Teresa.
Purtroppo Olga ci ha lasciati da parecchi anni. Era molto buona; amava ed era amata da tutti. Per mio figlio Alfredo era come una seconda mamma.
Tra una decina di giorni Giorgia e Giulia sosterranno l'esame di maturità, mentre Ale continua a collezionare trenta e lode ai suoi esami di diritto.
La vita continua, scandita dal tempo. Un Tempo che non è lo stesso per nessuno: lento per chi soffre, veloce per chi è giovane, ma anche per chi non lo è più da tempo. Inesistente - beati loro - per gli innamorati!
Ma per persone come Olga il tempo non cancella il ricordo, anzi lo rafforza, e ci rende migliori ed umani.
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Written by Zeferino Siani. Posted in ZEFERINO'S TALES
Margareth
Margareth was proud of her work and of her position. And the people who knew her were in favor of seeing her as a good financial consultant, with a quality that could hardly be precisely defined, and that her most discerning clients identified in a kind of wonderful certainty that what was being decided about or diversification of the securities of a portfolio or a brilliant pick-up would have been a sure success.
With slow steps, she approached the large window of his office, at the 30th - and even last - floor of HSBC Tower, 452 Fifth Avenue, New York: during the night the wind had swept the sky from all the clouds, and the view was magnificent.
Then, as he had done before, she took a key from the desk, closed the office door behind him, ran up the two flights of stairs and then - two turns in the lock and a push - went out onto the terrace!
Now nothing stood in front of her eyes and, satisfied, she could look up to the Hudson to the left, to the East River to the right and, behind him, to all the Central Park to the north, ... and beyond, and beyond! Then, as always, her gaze slowly receded, retracing the previous vision backwards, until she pinned herself on Bryant Park just below her: New Yorker for generations, she loved her city, and in particular she loved that meadow which today shone like a face well polished of an enormous emerald.
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I dreamed of going around the city, in the middle of July, wearing only white underpants and a sleeveless cotton tank top, also white. So I went everywhere, and I spoke normally to anyone, wearing only a white underpants and a sleeveless white cotton tank top, and everyone spoke to me normally, and I answered normally, and nobody paid any attention to my way of dressing. When I woke up I remembered exactly like that, and I tried to figure out what that fucking dream meant, but I couldn't. Later, after a shower and a shave, I thought about it, and I was still fucking thinking about breakfast. But nothing. Nihil, nain, nothing, nichoho!