The night will see a lot of things,
if you remain silent and observe. To example, bats. Flutter seemingly chaotic, concentrated on their hunt at dusk. A dog howling for a while, telling something important to another dog, his friend away. Then check
a cat, furry and brindle, makes the tightrope walker over the thin wall with the help of his tail out of balance expert, jumped and disappeared behind the geraniums on the balcony inside the house, where he expects a safe meal. They feel soft voices muffled and close the windows, still lit despite the late hour. Someone talk with someone else that accompanies it with a laugh accomplice. Someone else even comes home, park the car with artistic care, because the road is deserted and there is no hurry. There
of fresh laundry hung swaying floor, because of the gentle breeze and the clean scent fills the air. A cricket sings her lullaby hidden chissàdove. The stars, a few, keep company with a sky grateful, because no one should be alone.
And then there is the Man of bread.
Man of bread always arrives at the same time. Check the corner, beyond the end of the road with his bicycle. Comes slowly, as if they enjoy every breath and ride all the way and reached the pavement and laying down the bike to the wall with the attention of a boyfriend in love. At that point, raises the shutter of the shop floor, not quite, only half and disappears inside. If you have a little patience, as long as you have to wait is not so, that required only. And after it happens ...
The air fills with the aroma of the houses touching the freshly baked bread, the first one that you never forget. We are nourished by the smell as if you ate the heart and really tired of a good thing. Maybe life is worth just for this ...
for the night and smell the bread.
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