Saint Spirit

by Quelli di ZEd

beside Saint. You/he/she would have been stupendous to lose every time among his/her braccias in that way. Would you/he/she ever have been able to desire other? How were the adults able to grow weary to make the love to conduct a sterile life of couple without that woodpeckers of pleasure? An indescribable series of controversies had done violently break-in in the life of Sabrina.

  The love, that monster, people's death to her dear and the suffocating guilt to feel the craftsman of everything. Its seventeen years of life had become all to a line twenty-five! The doors of the post adolescence they were closed forever. It was a woman now and irremediably they weighed her as a boulder the responsibilities of his to do, also still behaving himself/herself/itself with his/her usual nature, dictated by the impulsiveness and by the audacity.

  XXVI

  Ivo was shouting to a group of men that you/they were bringing some wounded in an awning as soon as out the village, prepared to hospital by field, to do soon. You/he/she had found other two bodies behind a pair of redwoods that they still burned. The first body was of one dear friend of his and there would have been well little by now to be done, but the other stretched out man in earth, to work, but it still breathed. You loaded on the shoulders the wounded and, with inhuman effort, he/she succeeded in moving in big hurry from the flames and from the smoke that it already broke him the breath, dragging himself/herself/itself behind also the lifeless body of the friend.

  There were men and women that used him without standstill to start keeping silent the avid voracity of the flames, provoked by that monster. There were some redwoods that for hundreds of years you/they had resided in that eternal place and what time they inexorably saw extinguished their future. The greatest part of the I house-plant with trees, however they were safe perlomeno. While these inhabitants saved their village from the distruttività of the fire, others, after having helped the wounded and recovered the charred bodies of the most unlucky, they lent every type of assistance in the impromptu hospital field, founded as soon as out the village. Penelope, the twin one of Sabrina, was beside the fatherly bed with the eyes destroyed by the tears and by the punishment.

  Prometeo? You/they had found him/it stretched out in earth with two long lances pierced in the abdomen, and to these you/they had still attached the braccias of his/her companions, you tear of clean from the fury of the demon. The wife of Prometeo naturally took on his/her shoulders the management of the situation. Accustomed to assist beside side her husband in all the decisions that up to that moment he had taken for the good of his/her beloved village, it seemed her more obvious to continue the work that the companion, in that breaker, you/he/she could not personally bring before. The inhabitants of Boscocittà didn't hesitate an instant to follow the indications ch'ella it still distributed to the valid people to find again the order of the things, what time it seemed distant. While Ivo he was mainly dealing with to recover the wounded and to start keeping silent under the flames with a team to his/her command, she organized the works of first help for his/her unlucky persons companions that had tasted the cruelty of those demoniac flames.

  The picture of the harmony of that hard-working village suddenly falls in the forgetfulness, leaving the place to the horrendous image of a battleground. It was paradoxically grotesque to observe that square of uncontaminated nature even more, bombarded in so ill-omened way by the destruction, yet still surrounded, a little anymore in there, from a luxuriant swarming vegetation of life. During the night the conscience of Prometeo had returned vigilant, yet it didn't dare to open the eyes, neither to give some sign to the outside of its return from the meander of the deadly irresponsibility, where miraculously you/he/she had floated without sinking. A pain, greater than the wounds that had in womb, it paralysed him/it and in the same instant as the lapel of the cruellest paid coin to Giuda for the betrayal of Christ, it contracted him the limbs in pangs of desperation.

  The face of that monster!

  It was not possible, but he still had him/it vivid in his/her memory. It was as if he were specchiato in a black lake. That was certain pits his/her face, dyed of ebony and disfigured by the ferocity of the evil. It didn't have the palest idea of as the destiny you/he/she could be teased of his/her village in so cruel way. About that malefic entity didn't know how to make sense of the origin, neither so much I lead the aesthetics of the face. A perfect drop of water of his, approves in negative. While it was reflecting on the endless possible explanations, it prayed in cuor his that the face that you/he/she had seen in that demon was a simple illusion of the evil same that invested whoever he/she met him/it confrontation, to fill him the soul of appalling dismay.

  Perhaps it already dawned, because it warned the light through his/her eyelids that, perhaps for fear to find before the nightmare of that monster or simply because it didn't have in itself the necessary strength to face that raw reality yet, you/he/she had not dared open. All of a sudden it came him the weak voice of Penelope.

  "Dad, prays you, wakened up in hurry! The people of our village are involved in the pure folly more and more. Hallucinations are exponentially spreading and I am afraid of the monster, as also of our same companions of life."

  Subitamente Prometeo opened wide the eyelids staring at his/her/their daughter. The small his/her Penelope had a destroyed expression, it seemed you/they were placed on his/her eyes, to the sudden one, ten years more. The lips trembled her and the cheeks were crossed by the signs of the annoyed tears on its beautiful face, stained with the black of smoke and framed from ruffles him head of hair that suited him more to a wild animal that to a youth of its age.

  The first words of Prometeo were alone for her.

  "My treasure, calmed, I swear you that I will bring you out of the iniquity of these moments. Until so much that I will be alive, are sure that nobody can do you some evil and also after my death, my believers friends will protect you in the same way according to which would do him/it me!"

  It said this, as a father tells him/it his/her small child that is afraid of the ghosts. He/she knew ch'egli it was not able anything in that breaker and that their future was extremely precarious, but account made also that those words would have shifted in his/her daughter the necessary strength that for years he had inculcated her educating her/it. The hope had to be always the last to die and although for now you/he/she had become an illusion, his/her family would always have had to perceive safety and protection in the brooding of his/her entourage.

  Penelope bursted in roaring hiccups, his/her father embraced and stormed him the cheeks of warm kisses, damp of tears:

  "Dad there is out here people that goes saying that that winged monster has your same face. Nobody knows more where Sabrina is ended. Fortunately is not among the bodies of the fallen ones, however the people, our people, do now him suspicious with our family!"

  Prometeo tried to dissimulate the blinding pain that penetrated in his/her meats hearing the words of his/her/their daughter. Sabrina had disappeared and that monster really had its features! It immediately recovered the necessary lucidity not to run over his/her daughter with his/her desperation and it told her with fond calm:

  "Bushels calm Penelope, involved without stain, as you have always done, and it won't happen you nothing of badly. You go to call Ivo, tell him that I have waked up."

  When Ivo came, Prometeo drew an enormous sigh of relief in not to notice in the eyes of his/her companion any suspicious and accusatory look. Fortunately he still trusted him and you/he/she would surely have beaten to defense of his/her family.

  The indestructible head of the village, during that moments of vigil, he/she took as soon as conscience of the fact that would not have gone out anymore probably from that agony. It was too much weak, the lances had pierced him vital organs, there was no hope of one improvement of his. To breathe an endless pain had become, it continually had to bring his/her attention on that obvious action that is instinctively learned with the fit solo to be born. It feared terribly to find himself/herself/themselves suffoc
ated by a sudden apnea, sews together to free him/it from the nonstop pain provoked by the malefic air that burned him the bellows. Even the air had become him hostile!

  You/he/she would not have lifted the head anymore from that bed, the time it tightened and you/he/she had to pick up all the energy remained him in body to give his/her last dispositions of head and father, so that it saved him the savable one.

  It fixed the look on the colossus that still stayed him faithful, and it uttered as touching cynical words.

  "Ivo, has reached the terminal, more than one day I won't survive. I will be just dead, you must assemble the people that according to you it still reasons, and to bring her/it the most distant possible from here. The monster has him with the village and before when you are imagined it will return and the consequences will be ill-omened even more. It saves more possible people, above all his/her children, but if you will find some parents to you hostile, leave them to their destiny, not to force them to follow you, they would be turned into hostile potential."

  "But Prometeo, is all brothers.

  "Not to interrupt me Ivo, begs of it. I know that this of which I speak to you is cruel, but