I watch my children play hide and seek with a box in the playroom: those three are a criminal! I let them do, aware that the game could be hard ...
They remind me of the "small club" that I and my brothers had put up in the attic of our house in the countryside, where he found the old man my father's study room, we invaded before he could set foot there. The study, to be honest, time had become the refuge of all that was not part of the useful things, or rather the immediate profits. That's why it was called the "room of Neggio " ("useless", to be precise, in the Sicilian dialect). Among the
Neggio , in spite of what my father said we were small fine. It was total anarchy: there was no furniture or furnishings that could be dirty or broken, so we could not smudge or break. Also for this reason we felt free. Among
suitcases and dusty relics of all time, we had put up a real cultural circle. Using the old science books to make collages of animals, bringing them together for races. We learned poems by heart and theatrical pieces for the holidays.
I enjoy storytelling adventure, adapted from time to time depending on the final taste of the audience. But the most popular story was always the same, the island's mysterious story loosely based on the novel by J. Verne. I could always someone telling Andreas terrorize the murderess, a cruel and unscrupulous type in the novel, fragile and complainer in reality ... My
of effort was amply repaid by the "club" force favors of any kind, bordering on harassment, fulfilled almost always under threat of immediate expulsion from the circulation.
0 comments:
Post a Comment