Outboard Motor Fuel Efficiency

Droppie (VIII parte)

The next day the boy awoke and happier after a hearty breakfast with panettone Silvia Marchesi who had brought him from London entered the studio, decided to take up his thesis. But when he opened the iBook, he found a note written in crayon. It is not at all surprised to find it. Silvia did not go without ever leaving a mark of its passage. It was his style and he liked it.

"I feel a CARTOON, SO
never dies,
not cease to exist, the children laugh

DO NOT PARTICULARLY SMALL AND LARGE PROJECTS

STRONTIUM IN ANY SMALL SPACE AND WITHOUT AIR, WHERE
small computers,
the desire to have small profit you're rushing. "

E 'Lucio Dalla, but I think so too.
Put a glass out the window and wait. When it is full of rain we drink to us. To our being so different in this brothel's happening in our lives, our being so similar in common way to feel and believe in people and love. We are no longer children, we are not yet adults. Let us at least it was nothing, alone.

Your Silvia.

The boy folded the sheet in half, closed the computer and left. It was a wonderful day. It was hot and decided to take a ride in the center but the bike had a flat tire and the front desk where to leave his comfort at that pump was bolted.
goalkeeper had confessed that it was enough to push the old wooden door to open it, even when it was locked. The boy he had never tried it but that day he needed to clear a bit 'ideas and there was no nothing better than a nice ride. So she took courage and went to the concierge. He pushed up the left wing of the door, made sure that no one came down the stairs and opened with a bang. He looked immediately to the left, behind the chair, but the pump was not the usual place. Cursing his laziness and disorder of the goalkeeper tried in the booth. In the closet, under the table, even in the broom closet. Nothing. He had to go out and shutting the door behind him by forcing the lock with another rap equal and opposite to the first. And luckily this time no one even came down the stairs. He went back to light in May and looked at the bike the wheel on the ground, looking for an alternative solution. He was not going to surrender. The day was too good to return home. To do what? Watch TV? Read? Same with potatoes.

let alone get to study. He felt too nervous for that. The beloved had turned upside down. He was really that bad? Yet had told him that David was growing beautifully, that as parents become attached to the child also became softer to her. That they were helping to raise him and his feelings of guilt were slowly disappearing along with the memory of that bastard Alberto. And he? How was he? He had always considered Silvia her best friend and he felt particularly close to her and share in his life, yet he had to admit that their lives had taken different paths since the city had changed his homosexuality to live without guilt and waiver. The day seemed so far gone along with Silvia at school in Milan. She had become a mother now. He was gay and even if it could never have a child because of his illness. And even adopt it. Of course they were both single but for very different reasons. Yet according to her were so similar in the choice of loneliness. The pain of that loneliness.