di Marco Giovenale
"one night", she said to the employee at the reception, "iskar had lit a cigarette and was inhaling deeply, try to imagine it happening, in the animal corner"
he passed a soothing hand on a horse's muzzle in seeing telegraph avenue ear-phone, to close the mouth which pronounced these horrible words,
and he turned to walk back. he fell beside her. they did not exchange a word. a...
