Saint Spirit

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by Quelli di ZEd

kept details to the sure one by the semi-obscurity, he went to sit on the usual bench, next to the console of the organ, sets under to the sixteenth-century box of right, in the darkest angle and less attended of the whole church. It loved to be next to the place where anonymous musicians to the people activated the monstrous sonorous power of those sedicimilas reeds. The majesty and the imperiousness of the organ are been conceived really with the purpose to frighten and to make prender conscience to the populace of the endless power of God. Is the enormous physical vastness of this tool, is the exaggerated massive structure of sound that it roared through his/her thousand of reeds, they were the convincing warning for destar in the whole fear toward the endless one.

  Fleeting its eyes crossed the whole zone to him surrounding. Then, with circumspection, Saint extracted from the pocket a lock of blonds hair and greedily breathed her/it. With it cheeks and lips it was still grazed benumbed by the cold. The feeling was exhilarating and to the meantime mysterious and sacred. A shiver of energy, whose source derived from every angle of the church, as if that enormous sleeping building to the sudden one had opened its four great eyes, each to the summit of every angle. Their look ultrasecolare seemed to be endowed with an almost tangible magnetism, almost visible to human eye, seeming for an imperceptible instant to stop on the face of Saint.

  The power of the death.

  You shook from the limbs that divinatory inturgidimento and it put again him in pocket that powerful amulet that belongs to the thick head of hair of his/her last lover. Saint, a mysterious being a great deal for whoever you/he/she had met him/it for road. Tall more than one meter and ninety, with narrow sides markedly, from the line typically adolescent, and ample shoulders to crown an imposing chest, long and strong hands and a long head of hair of corvine and smooth hair to excessively frame a pale and hairless face, almost you/he/she had not reached the maturity yet. The eyes, in their line, they were sharp as those of a cat: the eyelashes were thick, the arched eyebrows nobly and two iridium, black more than the pitch, they concealed every emotion of his to the rest of the world.

  The immense Cathedral in Milan! It loved perdutamente that place, it was he/she anchors him of salvation for his/her insane soul. In that sacred site it purified his/her Spirit, he/she confessed his/her memoirs, his lived, so soaked with art, of blasfemie and of grotesque habits and few cared him to whom his really went to say, if to God, to a demon, or simply to himself; it was his/her way to make peace with the world.

  In that breakers he/she often remembered the night when the fascinating Dafne knew. The first instant in which their eyes were crossed, he was really above of her, both totally naked. You/he/she had just come her abundantly inside, without asking her permission, without not even knowing that her pits still long live. Yes, it is rather a history paradoxical that that ties Saint Black, an anonymous undertaker of the city of Milan, to the famous countess Dafne Monteghini, almost as what turns around the strangest popular legends.

  You, a splendid woman quarantenne, of elevated elegance, he introduced an evening of well two years back to the morgue of square Gorini for the recognition of the body of his/her/their husband, dead breaking himself/herself/itself to insane speed against a guardrail with his/her Ferrari. When her, later a few days returned to the morgue to accompany the corpse of the poor man husband to the cemetery, still stunned for the atrocious vision of that heap of meat sanguinolento, of that swollen face horribly and swollen that only it distantly resembled to the fifty year-old beautiful man with which you/he/she had shared halves its life, it stayed amazed. The corpse that introduced her was simply sensational!

  It was the statue of an ancient divinity, from the beautiful proportionate body unequivocally abandoned nobly in elegant way. And then that face. his/her husband was ever seemed so much beautiful and radiant, not even twenty years before, when she had had the fortune to come upon him in him. More it looked at him/it more its pain turned him into an anxious sense of uncontrollable excitement. Suddenly he/she believed in all of this that that body from alive you/he/she had always wanted her to make to believe: "With the money, my dear, we are able everything, we can always escape her/it, always to do her/it frank, in whatever situation we will have our preferential road that will care to the sure one from everything."

  It immediately had the visceral impulse to undress completely naked and to throw above that immovable but mighty body. All of this that succeeded in doing, however, a light caress was alone on the cheek of the dead one and the impenetrable cold that that body transmitted her it petrified her/it instantly. Churches, churches hopelessly who the administrator of the corpse of his/her husband had been. His/her usual superb attitude and detached, typical of the people of tall rank, were dissolved, its voice had a suppliant tone that embarrassed the workers of the morgue. They reported her that their colleague of the night was an extremely bashful person, perhaps dangerous. They had us to Them few to whether to do and you/they would not have known how to tell her where he/she lived and that type of life conducted.

  That powerful lady, with the means that it had available, you/he/she would have been able in a flash to know anything on the account of Saint, but he/she preferred to sensually conceive a romantic and diabolic plan in equal measure. His/her personal physician contacted and made him get an unknown potion to the modern medicine, a mixture of other times, a liquid able to stop her heart for about ten times. The same intruglio, the doctor assured her, that Juliet assumed for faking himself/herself/themselves dead to the eyes of the world, the same powerful magic that Romeo even had deceived, his/her sweet half.

  II

  Dafne, of humble origins, it didn't initially have the correct malice to manage in the high-ranked environments frequented by his/her/their husband. In the first times of his/her advent in the high society, in fact, the beautiful countess intensely suffered daily facing the varnished empty of those reunions, but its role imposed her that serious assignment. It was the woman of a powerful man and to her the public and worldly management of the business of his/her/their husband was up to. The superb ostentation of that society saddened her/it immensely and you/he/she had learned that the to show his/her own feelings was symptom of weakness, so he/she preferred to disguise his/her own emotions maintaining a checked behavior.

  A consolatory bitterness lukewarmly wound him in to recall to the memory sentences of the "great" you learn to memory to protect from that world of sharks. Stendhal didn't perhaps say, in the "The red and the black", that: ".soltanto the fools are irritated with the others, a stone it falls heavy perch. Sar always a child? When therefore I will take the good habit to give of my soul that so much that I owe in exchange for their money to this race of people? If I want to be esteemed and from them and from myself, it needs that I/you/he/she show theirs that only my poverty treats with their wealth, but that my heart is to thousand leagues from their insolence, and situated in a tall sphere too much to be reached by the small signs of their scorn or favor." Then R.P. Malagrida didn't teach that: "The word has been given to the man because can hide its thought?"

  This motto, had initially followed her to the letter, involving himself/herself/itself from silver ware and discreet dame of class, giving smiles, beautiful words and friendly gestures to everybody, indiscriminately, also holding big part of them a mass of retrograde, devastating of the good taste. But well soon him made account that its blandishments and its affected ways didn't get some effect on that awkward bipeds, for them it was almost an obligation his to do polite in their comparisons. Opposite, these ereditieris of birth were taken the liberty to criticize her/it, to invent him histories so much for sparlare on its account, and straight someone dared sometimes take back in public her for of its a little consistent attitudes "to a lady that had had the fortune to reach that position", implying that only thanks to his/her/their husband you/he/she could frequent the crème of the society.

  Dafne despaired him confiding himself/herself/itself with his/her/their husband that, also belonging
to that world, it had the very different mind from the classical stereotype of rich. He/she softly consoled her, he/she knew how to attend her/it as you/he/she would have been a father with his/her/their daughter. It was ten years old in more than her, a small difference relatively to comparison of the average of the couples of their peers, in which the man sometimes surpassed the woman of thirty or forty years, but in that moments he assumed a way to do so much thoughtful and comprehensive to seem the grandfather of that small trembling creature that welcomed among the braccias. He/she explained her with an endless patience that she would have owed distant tener his/her emotions, his/her sincere impulses and his/her ideas from the public worldliness, and that, also seeming situations of relaxation, those parties, suppers and evenings among friends they were of the real reunions of business in which were stipulated alliances, agreements and equilibriums that would have influenced then the whole economy of their empires. You getting married was become him/it the queen of the kingdom of the Monteghinis that, of generation in generation, you/he/she had reached

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