Posted by iPod
Posted by iPod
R. Buchago 2011
Posted by iPod
Click "TEXT STEFANO" (right) for the whole story.
IV
The type comes with a cigarette. She's wearing only a T-shirt with the logo of the same brand of cigarettes who is finishing up smoking. It is cold and the smoke takes away his breath. Out of the basement lights of the port of San Francisco await the signal dawn to go to bed.
The guy, with his blond hair bobbed and elephant leg pants cinched at the waist, it looks like a wax copy of Brian Jones.
"Julian, what do you think?" The Chief Inspector Billi ago, a guy in his sixties with a plaid jacket unwatchable as the big bulbous nose she wears on her face.
The guy turns to the inspector and pulls away cigarette ends in the water.
"Let me do the last verifica e ti dico, ma se lo è, è grande, molto grande..” dice senza troppo trasporto.
“Ne avevi mai viste di così?”
“No”
“Ti faccio portare dentro la sonda, eh?” l’ispettore guarda Julian come se stesse ammirando l’ultimo modello di Ferrari.
Julian annuisce poi guarda in lontananza un Ferry che si sta avvicinando alla grande baia.
“Adesso rientro con la sonda. Non fare entrare nessuno.”
“Ok” fa l’ispettore capo Billi.
Julian falls in the basement. Two agents bring you a great cable at a small monitor and a light at the ends.
He sits in front of it. Think of your breath. Do you think that is breathing then thinks he is exhaling. A few minutes later thoughts are tiny bubbles that evaporate. Then there is only breathing and the hand that puts the probe into the monster metal phosphorescent hues. After a few centimeters, the probe touches a bag full of anxious thoughts. The unpaid bills and the latest blood tests. Friends who may have offended because it called for some time. The delay between you and a mistake in the procedure of inserting the probe. Julian sees all this load existential let go without doing damage. His awareness of the capsule leaves free of these heavy thoughts. It looks like a sky that sees the passing of the clouds. A cow that looks at the train pass.
The probe continues its journey along a sort of free space between the tubes and wires of the isometric structure of polished metal. Slowly but continuously, like a stream of water on the sand, as is customary in such cases. First we analyze the load of Dukkha in the tree, then engages in giving her a meal pill awareness. If you are in what turns on and shows a fluorescence event. Now look for the entrance channel where insert the probe, being careful to isolate their vast reservoir of knowledge so that it can not detonate, the strength of this primer. Then pushes the probe deep into the structure.
Julian meets the thought of death, his parents unknown, the pain that inevitably awaits us in life, lost the final for a trifle. Vent. Let go. Plus the probe advances, the more the weight and pressure of these packs of thought becomes ever stronger. Even murders for a mind unprepared. The anxiety would trigger a spasm of panic that would bring the brain to block or stall the heart.
The bombs are their psychic gift to humanity.
According to a recent BBC report have killed or rendered "invalid" at least 200 million people last year.
probe Julian suddenly stops and looks small from the center of the monitor thing.
It 's his heart, his inner sanctum, its vital core.
Two holes become a nose, then a half-open mouth comes out of a narrow opening at the end of the long hole. There is a person embedded in the thing, oppressed by the assembled metal around his body, if it still exists in addition to its head. Claustrophobically stuck his nature is actually human, a slight burst of steam on the probe reveals her to be still living.
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