Post by account_disabled on Dec 23, 2023 23:08:58 GMT -6
He left the city, where the fog claimed nightly victims every day. Armed with an opaque lantern, he made his way through the thick whitish layer that filled the countryside. The miasmas welcomed him as friends, scents that he had learned to love in the dark years of his youth. There, where countless fopponi had been dug , after the plague that had hit the city, he began searching, digging up what had been buried and forgotten. What would never again have to walk the earth. He sat on the bank of the oxbow lake , where the stagnant water teemed with amphibious life and malarial mosquitoes.
The sun was setting over the snowy ridges and darkness would soon descend to obscure the world. And in the darkness other things would also come down, which the old man didn't dare mention. He crossed himself, spat in the putrid water and returned home, before the darkness caught him defenseless. He ran. His feet seemed to barely Special Data touch the sand as the boy ran away breathless. He reached the bay, but no longer saw the boat he had landed . Behind him, the foliage of the trees was tossed as if struck by a whirlwind, while the beach shook in the throes of an earthquake. Then the sun darkened and a bestial scream covered the screams of the boy who was lifted from the ground like a twig. The man waiting on the corner had his face covered by a wide-brimmed hat. When the woman arrived, handing him a basket covered with a rag, the man took out a bag full of coins and handed it to her.
Then he opened the bundle and just glanced at the little infant who was watching him with lively eyes. He smiled, satisfied. Then he took the basket and disappeared into the night, without looking back, where the woman watched him go crying tears of silence. The door creaked in the middle of the night and the old man woke up. Maybe it was the wind, he told himself, but he was sure he had closed all the shutters. Or maybe it was something else, the shadow that moves silently in the darkness to take the souls of sleepers. At that thought he began to crawl under the covers, probing the darkness of the room in search of something he couldn't name. Then a glimmer flashed in the darkness, drawing a curve, and a hooded figure moved. The old man's eyes found themselves looking at the empty sockets of the white face in front of him. And he knew the name. The man walked through the streets of Milan, arousing the amazement of those he met.
The sun was setting over the snowy ridges and darkness would soon descend to obscure the world. And in the darkness other things would also come down, which the old man didn't dare mention. He crossed himself, spat in the putrid water and returned home, before the darkness caught him defenseless. He ran. His feet seemed to barely Special Data touch the sand as the boy ran away breathless. He reached the bay, but no longer saw the boat he had landed . Behind him, the foliage of the trees was tossed as if struck by a whirlwind, while the beach shook in the throes of an earthquake. Then the sun darkened and a bestial scream covered the screams of the boy who was lifted from the ground like a twig. The man waiting on the corner had his face covered by a wide-brimmed hat. When the woman arrived, handing him a basket covered with a rag, the man took out a bag full of coins and handed it to her.
Then he opened the bundle and just glanced at the little infant who was watching him with lively eyes. He smiled, satisfied. Then he took the basket and disappeared into the night, without looking back, where the woman watched him go crying tears of silence. The door creaked in the middle of the night and the old man woke up. Maybe it was the wind, he told himself, but he was sure he had closed all the shutters. Or maybe it was something else, the shadow that moves silently in the darkness to take the souls of sleepers. At that thought he began to crawl under the covers, probing the darkness of the room in search of something he couldn't name. Then a glimmer flashed in the darkness, drawing a curve, and a hooded figure moved. The old man's eyes found themselves looking at the empty sockets of the white face in front of him. And he knew the name. The man walked through the streets of Milan, arousing the amazement of those he met.