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Trizia and Marco Epomeo
August 15 Monday afternoon
In the late afternoon with the taxi they arrived at the midway point, with the advice to go up by mule, that the road was long and arduous. Shortly after, they were already on the narrow and steep path. They mounted and dismounted from the mules a few minutes from the summit. The slim, cool breeze fragrant Mediterranean and yellow wild flowers plus color charges for grazing rays of sunset, lit their curiosity and drove them to climb the steep steps of the race. They reached the top of the mountain of tufa, flushed face, dry mouth and breath zeroed in front of the breathtaking view.
The view flowed from the islands to the open sea , the bays wrapped in lights on sunset. It was the time when the red sky quickly left the scene of the first stars of the evening and the darkness of the night. They were there to witness the spectacle of fireworks, on the occasion of the Assumption. They spent the night under the stars until dawn. The departure was in the early afternoon, would have made it in time. So they waited for the fireworks together with other tourists, including a group and the local guide, equipped with all point to the bivouac. They settled on their cots fitted with woolen cloth. Marco, not quite out yet embarrassment to the scene of jealousy of the day before and the negative opinion expressed by her against him, sought the right modulation of the conversation beyond the thought that gripped him: "She'll be with me!" It was not really willing to choke on that idea. He adjusted his voice low and sweet tones that were better. "This evening was beautiful and warm; we were lucky to find such clarity; I'm worried about the gusts that are coming up, if the wind picks up, there will be a fireworks show." Lying on his back, staring at the black sky and sought inspiration: "The Epomeo has a long history" She was at his side, but it was as if he were not there. Just under the vault of heaven wonderful, his mind slipped out details of her and Ross. Still she twitching. Then, the fireworks exploded in succession, the first lens and the individual, and after rapid close, drawing the sky lighting effects of various colors. "There he is" said Marco, from time to time, indicating one who seemed to him the most beautiful, moving a gesture in the air.
She followed them, attracted by the light trails, but before his eyes there was only Ross, with his body, with its warmth. She still felt that heat. She had never experienced anything like this in his life. Too bad it cannot even tell Carla, would not have lost time, the friend, to change opinion about her, she would have listed among those who never miss a chance. While she knew that was not so. No one had passed that particular emotion. Ross had given him, and took, and gave, with warmth that had surrounded it all. Pounded his hand on the canvas cot, was a gesture of annoyance and disappointment. Duilio had loved her in the deepest sense of the word, and yet, with him had never experienced anything like this. Cold, yes, in the report, Duilio cooled and deadened every passion.
Quite the opposite of Ross, his skin smelled of sea salt and sent to a crescendo, a whole world of emotions. Ross was pure body expression. Meanwhile, Marco had noticed his silence. He saw her absent, but at the same time he felt drawn to her like a small nail is attracted by a giant magnet. The fires were apotheosis. He went on with his arm raised in the sky, another rocket. Had exploded in silver ribbons and points of light fluffy; deliberately, he fell flat on her, and his face buried in her breasts. Trizia parried the fall with all the strength of his arms and pointed a knee there, lower abdomen, where it hurts most. He rolled over in his bed.
"Are you crazy, for those who got me, do not let "Now she adjusted the cloth to completely cover the shoulders throwing flames of anger." You did not understand anything about me," she thought, turning the shoulders. Marco brooded. Enough, enough now, he had lost his patience, they came to this country both Trizia and Ross. He turned away.
The fires broke out almost everywhere, exploding barrels infernal roar echoes long to the sides of the mountain. They went again the parables of the rockets, the waterfalls of stars and sparks, and the blooms of color. Then a loud bang more and it was all over. They swooped in darkness and silence. The moon was down. They tried to sleep. The vacation ended that night. They fell asleep wrapped in their shoes, shot on opposite sides.
The wind, from noon reinforced. Intermittent gusts swept the sea and went back shaking their hammocks. They slept a restless sleep, the aurora had colored the horizon rose and was leaving the place at dawn, when the nostrils were filled with all burnt. The atavistic, primordial warning they awoke with a start. The tourists looked around worried. Trizia jumped up. She was alarmed. She looked. Red smoke further down a plane and proceeded over their heads. The forest was in flames. Smoking and high tongues of fire. "What do we do?" The local guide, informed that the danger was not immediate, was only the smoke, the plane would have extinguished the fire. Still, it was better to go down. Trizia saw that Marco was heading for the stairs in the company of other tourists and avoided to achieve it. She stood next to the guide. She was scared, but the meaning of the work well.
She felt the burn the Mediterranean, between smell and aroma of resins, including squeaks, rattles and sudden crashes. She heard them in their ears like moans and cries of tortured beings. She suffered with them. She thought about the variety of birds and mammals in danger and sentenced to death. Now all breathing, coughing, like rivulets down to the creek, fast, with a handkerchief carried to the mouth every so often, Trizia continued to fall, a little later there was Marco. Bees buzzing around. He spun about himself and waving his hands in doing so invited them to attack more. Trizia slowed his pace; he did not even want to speak to him.