The Walkers and the matryoshka. 
wait to pass last year. Then I will only have to wait until it passes the next three hundred sixty-five days. So if the thought of Miss Mary pushing his walker on the large terrace paved with red tiles in the rough cold morning in late December. For some time now to move quell'ausilio prestatole used by the ASL. After initial difficulties had learned to use and had become indispensable to the movement in the house. Sometimes, sitting in the chair in tobacco-colored leather on which to spend several hours of his day watching television off with a given information, tracing patterns of crossword Puzzles of old issues of the week already filled, or resolving, with adequate skills, puzzle already solved, speaking to him. He became more than that his only means of support also the confidante and most trusted companion chatter. For years he lived alone in the company of a carer statuary in Ukraine did not understand the language. This company carried out the household chores in exchange for a small pay and the granting of living in the apartment that although tiny had given her the chance to settle in the tiny living room where a giant matryoshka lady came from frost could not sleep at night, in feet. The times were those who were and could not go too subtle. We had settle and then painted wooden doll was stuffed with wool from an old mattress recovered from the cellar and the smell of wine that was impregnated promotes sleep. Miss Mary had never married nor had children, despite his youth had been rather volatile, had a chance to collect an impressive array of assorted military uniforms, from which he was strongly attracted to family tradition, having been the only heir of a General of the Alpine Corps. At lavish receptions that were held dances every Saturday night at the Officers Club which, in flower girl, accompanied the father bird, he always carried with him a little book with the bright red cover on which he noted the invitation of every young lieutenant, blond or brown, with or without a mustache that was, before launching into wild dance that concludevavno always, as a result of precise pirouettes calculated in some garden, behind some fence, over some uncomfortable bench. Carnet that still had the ball and when I leafed through digging into their memories, could not explain why so many pages were torn. Now almost a century, completely rebuilt by a renowned plastic surgeon who had experience on the battlefields of World War II but recently lacked in precision, because a strong shake hands due to Parkinson's in advanced. Recent plastic touches were not very well managed and Miss Mary looked into the mirror of an old silver compact hard to recognize. He decided, though reluctantly for the affection that bound her illustrious luminary, to turn to someone else a little more fresh for the next restoration. He spoke to the walker who listened carefully and passed without a word. Satisfied with the conversation, Miss Mary called the Ukrainian ringing the bell around his neck hung a necklace of pearls shining slightly opaque. The woman saw walking up and said, "From?". "Good morning fucking communist." Hissed Miss Mary, "I'd like a cup of tea. Lemon. Thank you." The patient, stubborn student a thousand days spent in the useless attempt to teach the Italian exaggerated accounts "Da" and started shuffling into the kitchen. It emerged shortly after with a mug of steaming Bolsh, a stinking soup of beets, a dish common to every corner of the most remote wilderness, who posed proudly on the coffee table Louis Philippe rotten place near to the chair. Miss Mary realized the error and immediately shouted desperately, "the One! Damn! I said a cup of tea!" The Ukrainian seraphic smile, another said "Da" and slipped in the matryoshka daily nap. Miss Mary got up cursing all the Tsar of all Russia and walked towards the terrace loved driving the walker. "God as it is difficult to understand, Today, in this world. "advancing said" Fortunately it's you that I understand well. Let's go out for a walk. "The Walkers moved and bounced gently took her slipping on red tiles. Then, suddenly, he took a ridiculous speed and dragged Miss Mary up to the edge of the pool where they swam lazily between stone colored lilies several goldfish. Two hours later, the Russian Olga as he called Miss Mary, he realized that the same had mysteriously disappeared and the fish in the tank was finished in a frightening way. As if nothing had returned home, he made the cases and with the Matryoshka under one arm was already half an hour after the employment office looking for another place. Shortly before closing the door behind her thinking with sincere emotion to Miss Mary, said "Da" For the last time.
wait to pass last year. Then I will only have to wait until it passes the next three hundred sixty-five days. So if the thought of Miss Mary pushing his walker on the large terrace paved with red tiles in the rough cold morning in late December. For some time now to move quell'ausilio prestatole used by the ASL. After initial difficulties had learned to use and had become indispensable to the movement in the house. Sometimes, sitting in the chair in tobacco-colored leather on which to spend several hours of his day watching television off with a given information, tracing patterns of crossword Puzzles of old issues of the week already filled, or resolving, with adequate skills, puzzle already solved, speaking to him. He became more than that his only means of support also the confidante and most trusted companion chatter. For years he lived alone in the company of a carer statuary in Ukraine did not understand the language. This company carried out the household chores in exchange for a small pay and the granting of living in the apartment that although tiny had given her the chance to settle in the tiny living room where a giant matryoshka lady came from frost could not sleep at night, in feet. The times were those who were and could not go too subtle. We had settle and then painted wooden doll was stuffed with wool from an old mattress recovered from the cellar and the smell of wine that was impregnated promotes sleep. Miss Mary had never married nor had children, despite his youth had been rather volatile, had a chance to collect an impressive array of assorted military uniforms, from which he was strongly attracted to family tradition, having been the only heir of a General of the Alpine Corps. At lavish receptions that were held dances every Saturday night at the Officers Club which, in flower girl, accompanied the father bird, he always carried with him a little book with the bright red cover on which he noted the invitation of every young lieutenant, blond or brown, with or without a mustache that was, before launching into wild dance that concludevavno always, as a result of precise pirouettes calculated in some garden, behind some fence, over some uncomfortable bench. Carnet that still had the ball and when I leafed through digging into their memories, could not explain why so many pages were torn. Now almost a century, completely rebuilt by a renowned plastic surgeon who had experience on the battlefields of World War II but recently lacked in precision, because a strong shake hands due to Parkinson's in advanced. Recent plastic touches were not very well managed and Miss Mary looked into the mirror of an old silver compact hard to recognize. He decided, though reluctantly for the affection that bound her illustrious luminary, to turn to someone else a little more fresh for the next restoration. He spoke to the walker who listened carefully and passed without a word. Satisfied with the conversation, Miss Mary called the Ukrainian ringing the bell around his neck hung a necklace of pearls shining slightly opaque. The woman saw walking up and said, "From?". "Good morning fucking communist." Hissed Miss Mary, "I'd like a cup of tea. Lemon. Thank you." The patient, stubborn student a thousand days spent in the useless attempt to teach the Italian exaggerated accounts "Da" and started shuffling into the kitchen. It emerged shortly after with a mug of steaming Bolsh, a stinking soup of beets, a dish common to every corner of the most remote wilderness, who posed proudly on the coffee table Louis Philippe rotten place near to the chair. Miss Mary realized the error and immediately shouted desperately, "the One! Damn! I said a cup of tea!" The Ukrainian seraphic smile, another said "Da" and slipped in the matryoshka daily nap. Miss Mary got up cursing all the Tsar of all Russia and walked towards the terrace loved driving the walker. "God as it is difficult to understand, Today, in this world. "advancing said" Fortunately it's you that I understand well. Let's go out for a walk. "The Walkers moved and bounced gently took her slipping on red tiles. Then, suddenly, he took a ridiculous speed and dragged Miss Mary up to the edge of the pool where they swam lazily between stone colored lilies several goldfish. Two hours later, the Russian Olga as he called Miss Mary, he realized that the same had mysteriously disappeared and the fish in the tank was finished in a frightening way. As if nothing had returned home, he made the cases and with the Matryoshka under one arm was already half an hour after the employment office looking for another place. Shortly before closing the door behind her thinking with sincere emotion to Miss Mary, said "Da" For the last time. 
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