The centrino
front of me looks mighty impressive and enormous castle.
invernane Under a sky full of snow below the gardens seem to bow to his will, other times a car is waiting and sitting on a bench a lady turn on itself works fine crochet.
Our eyes meet, in a split second I invent a stroria Cold War, I do not understand .. is not this strange image of my comfort zone ...
Prague is magical, mysterious, is about to take flight, leaving behind everything that's well and good until now has jealously guarded.
I go and look for a blue chilling but sweet, tender and greets me in vissutio a broken English.
Instinctively, I sit with my neighbor and even speak broken English with her.
Mrs. introduces me his wares proudly. I choose to pay him a doily as a sign of friendship and she gives me an 'orange she takes one from his bag and set under a frosty sky but sometimes the female complicity begin to eat and speak.
We talk like old friends and suddenly he shows me a picture of his Italian friend asked me if I know him.
The photo with him and the door always wistfully remember the times we had with him but suddenly disappeared.
speak in Italian or so.
told me his meteoric Italy, the story of my heavy Italy. Skip
she stiffens someone greets me leaves, within the castle.
Today I think that lady was Prague: melancholy of his past, projected into the future, but in this impriginata.
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