This old he read books in French, telling every corner of the world as if he had knocked on every inch of serious, seduced so Nora to touch her mind also the first time he practiced Transcendental Meditation. It was the spring of 1997, sitting in a poorly lit room on the top floor of a building in the historic center of Vicenza, obediently executed the orders of the instructor: "If you are the thoughts, let them come. It is like the sea when the algae moves from the bottom. "Thoughts are algae, Nora thought, before reciting the mantra aloud. "Repeat it more softly and more slowly." Commanded the master with authority. The feeling of emptiness, then followed the impression of having his head wrapped in a sheet wet, warm cloth moods, out of which frost in winter. And while the magic word is stuck for eternity in the mind, ragged shreds of life Elixir fins slender memory: he had the impression of visiting the source of its evil, the core of the storm from which all its restlessness had taken the start. But when this assurance, it seemed inevitable, everything is again decomposed and menacing shadow emerged from the bottom stopped shaking: Elisa's tender, a ghost trapped by the night, then returned the girl to be dry grass, free from the hypocritical sty the world.
0 comments:
Post a Comment