Hear the sound of the birds that made every morning a family event, there remained the fear of being in a strange place, or getting up every day when the shadows still did not leave the sky and feel excluded, alien in customs, strange awakenings. I missed coming back into the bed and touch the body warm, and sometimes too hot-his wife!, Fat and, at fifty, but he looked like when I first opened up her blouse and bra because it was hurry, because I needed, needed, wanted, see how it was haunted breast, of which only I could see the tip of the nipples through the fabric acting like two impenetrable walls: the happy bra, then he realized, did not hold anything, because her breasts rose with the same grace that two Byzantine domes, and the blouse, always closed, as if they would protect the advancing enemy. Yes, the enemy advance as sooner or later would face in that remote garrison. Two years
highlighted with a body of soldiers in a remote, because the pay was good and had been promised a great retirement. Where the only woman in sight was the old who prepared the fried chicken seasoned with grease, to which he had used almost no resent her stomach. The old gray hair down to the whiskers that greeted him with a blow to the hand of her wooden spoon, blackened huge and so many bad washed, anticipating his next move: leave it there! Warbling voice cried out, similar to rare birds that roamed the hills, looking for who knows what a barren land with only two old growth trees.
But this morning the bucket Katty not go to meet his hand. The kitchen was empty. "The old woman did not come today or tomorrow," he said. Nobody could give more information. That night turned in your mattress thinking about her, in his punches, his voice high-pitched, squeaky voice that seemed to overflow when he sang and ending in the chirping mented that she seemed proud. He did not notice until the third day that really missed her. No it is not. Was the presence of a woman, even if old, because women had their own way of doing things, because the steps of a woman, because the sounds of pots made by a woman, and the blows given by a woman, not had nothing to do with a man. And so far the presence of a woman in the camp had meant a bond with all others. With it, he slept at his side and sometimes was so hot that hit his back with his heels. The old Katty represented all women in the world, and for a week had gone and he wanted to have her around more than ever, but when his wife was for a week at his mother's house. But days passed and Katty did not return.
A week had not slept and eaten little cans that replacement, a skinny, skinny type, was struggling to open as an expert. "This is healthy food, germ-free 'These are vacuum-packed meat balls", "we must guard these places ..." More than one sent him to hell. Who cared care in that hole? All were cranky, skinny and scrawny type became the target of insults that were given at close range. Before they were also launched to Katty, but it was fun. They did it in secret or between teeth, and preferred a thousand times the nastiness that could spice up the old, the antiseptic contents of cans. Everyone loved her back but not expressed, is sensed in her gestures, glances at a flat horizon, no more trees than the two that did who knows what to birds. And who looked more anxious he was. I felt that if the old Katty die of decline did not return. The best would be, would compliment your meal, I would ask warbling, why nobody said anything? Would you ever? And at night they had the gentleness that precedes the morning, when he knew what awaited him in the kitchen. The birds singing brought back memories of Katty, his steps by dragging his sandals, as battered as she, who was Katty? For the first time the question was asked. Where did it come?, Would husband?, "Children?
that day, everyone agreed without speaking. Tacitly were arriving one by one the yard and demanded an explanation: "Where was Katty?" "We want to Katty!"
"Mrs. Katty had to go to accompany her husband to hospital. Has been slow to return because he died two days ago. Tomorrow becomes' Absolute silence
. Katty was a lady? It was the first thing that came to mind. It was obvious yes. He looked at others and found joy in their faces, welcomed the response. Everyone started screaming with joy. "Katty back!" "Katty back!" Screaming like crazy, and he did too. Did you say tomorrow? That night would be like before. Almost a prelude to love, expect the cold morning and I was sure he would hear the horrible gurgling sound like this time a hymn.
meekly held out his hand when he saw Katty with wooden spoon. She looked at him with eyes like coals and smiled sadly. He did not hit. He looked down to hide the tears that began to appear. He then reached down and approached her. Embraced. Strong, as if to pierce all the hugs of men, and felt in the flesh loose body of a woman. And Katty, wife, mother, daughter, wife, lover, the prostitute, the young, the elderly, with women's age-old gesture, stroked her hair and cradled him in her arms. Suddenly, he regained his composure, only to save his honor away from him and hit him hard stronger than ever, with the wooden spoon. Thankfully, he looked down and went to the heart in place. He felt that everything was as it should be.
B. Miosi
