Sono un po' così in questi giorni. Un....po'....così. Non so come. Però I started writing a story I'd like to become a comic. It's called Lemon Pie, you will understand why reading.
Lemon Pie
"You're Asking Me, my love will grow?"
The stereo croaked, and then went out, exhaling its last breath. My poor - old- stereo . years was kept in the store. It was dusty as the things they sell, or rather, I was trying to sell. Items forgotten by most modern items, more fashionable, and fit to be thrown in the trash more easily. I was due in part to bend to the needs of young people, if I wanted to continue my business. Unfortunately when you work you should not just listen to your heart but also your wallet.
" I do not know ... I do not know ." Canticchiai tune instead of George Harrison, while I finished putting in place the myriad of heart-shaped cushions, printed with phrases of love over the most pathetic and assume that you could remember, beginning by the appearance of man on Earth. Valentine's Day to me was totally disgusting and pathetic, especially for the wave of vulgarity that I had to expose and showcase. Perhaps I was a girl too old, and perhaps too discreet to show off my feelings in public, I was scared to kiss a boy in public, or just join hands, let alone flaunt a pillow that says in large letters & ldquo ; You are my teddy bear " .
've always been a closed and reserved girl, with almost no sense of humor, which is taken seriously, and takes everything seriously, bordering on the paranoid. I was not very genius in my many peers, but never mind, the loneliness I had always appreciated. Those who know me well know that I'm pretty surly, a bit 'sour like a lemon with a twist hard to take away, but I have the sweetness and softness of a cake, beyond the barrier acid hides a surprising tenderness. The fact that I owned a shop to campaign against the passage of time, it helped me to be more sweet and sympathetic. fact. My hatred for all those big retail chains, and aseptic cold, forcing the towns to become less distinctive and more impersonal, it was well known and it was increasingly obvious.
"Amanda" said a voice behind me, while fixing the last soft little heart on the shelf " you're going to focus on the radio." . I stood up, disgusted. It was the gossip of the country, Dana. The only regular customer, every day that passes, stops hours searching through the shelves, looking for bored with the gossip of the day, without even averglieli asked, and you do not buy anything. Anything. Not even a magnet shaped like a gramophone.
I was not at all in a good mood that morning, and I was not prepared to endure for hours, in fact, not even a minute. So I went to my poor stereo fuming, trying to save my copy now consumed of Abbey Road. bought it at a flea market, with one of my first pocket money I received from my family, and I did not want a memory of my childhood went burnt.
"Well, Amanda, do not greet each other more?" She asked, almost offended.
"Sorry, I did not think I wanted to do my late stereo hot gossip. Honestly, I better to think about. "I answered calmly, without even looking at her, pulling the cord to the appliance with deliberate slowness.
"Yeah," she said, with perfect nonchalance, putting her hand, well-kept nails, on my desk "will soon be Valentine's Day, and there will be much more juicy things to talk about ...". The silence made me incredibly badly wanted. He knew that I could not hear the party name odious for a reason, and it was a reason that I reported back in time. One of the reasons that had led me to open that shop, full of junk and trash of the highest order, once useful objects, but now fallen into disuse, to make room for things more practical and functional. I clung to the memories, now increasingly distant and faded in my memory. E 'possible to live only twenty-five years of memories? Objects that belong to the past who are ridiculed and belittled by those who chase the fashion and trends. People who do not consider as most with an intrinsic value, but cartons of milk without a heart inside. For me it has value, are more valuable whatever.
"Exit the store, Dana. Now. And do not even ask please. Exit and enter again. " I pointed to the exit, with anything but gentle ways.
"Of course this store ..." she began, a little 'hesitant. I had had enough. I took her by the arm and walked her exit, opening the door so rude. The slamming shut, and grabbed the sign of the times and turned around. I wanted to quit for at least ten minutes.
"This store has nothing do not go. "I said aloud, to convince me that it was true. It was too confusing, too many items were dusty, others put on display in a distracted way. And those hearts Valentine did not remember that the only time he broke my heart to a person very dear to me. The person I was to marry.
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