Radio Shack Return Not Reciept

in their eyes, Lorenzo Ramadoro inserted in the "curiously iridescent Tales" # 10 - comment on Lorenzo Allegrini

Fragmentation as a digit. Short periods el'incomunicabilità people who materializes into actual paragraphs self-sufficient, in "points people" you might say. This kaleidoscopic variety is reflected in the thoughts of the characters as in the world, through the eyes of the mind "of the same, you can not see in the story. A world of intense tremors as revolutions, and subsequent violent disillusionment, as the arid deserts of the soul. So, good luck to those who can immediately reconstruct the precision of a realistic picture the thread the story of Lorenzo. How should wish good luck to everyone who really tries to reconstruct the complexity of the real world, that we all live with millions of points of view.





Miguel
Puff hatred, anger kicked, and hit. I press my fingers on this feather heavy as the trigger of a smoking gun. As the tears breaking round drops on the ground. Slow slide back a few moments when I lay in terror. Under the broad shoulders of my father cover me from the blows. Brass end up dead on the ground roar buckets on the floor. Clash with the gentle features of a smiling woman. And jovial old lady, seen from afar, the other side of the photo. The weather was a flap that opened my image of the past decades. Property in its pose, the picture of her grandmother placed on the massive desk. The grandmother I never had. The mother and father always looked into a soft sigh.
grandmother ... and her father was now dead.
wear and tear of fear, drenched in blood, swallows the marble stains. Drain the thrill of seeing a baby in desperate point of death. An innocent little man clean the dirty sleeve. Click on a tab with the nightmare of black steel sinking into a bath of death.
was so happens, the murderess fell back on his father's body and lay dead.
While outside another innocent died, a Another harbinger of liberty perished, was taken suddenly and ended up falling down the stairs Reverse input of the presidential palace. Only one in dark black, one lead to slip the brain.
Outside the conquest of fading years of hard struggle for democracy, tanks adorned the corpses lying.

Alejandro
anger gushes from my veins. I hate the child, when I saw my brother fall down the stairs. When I saw him splash of death from brain. When the world pulled up with difficulty from my father was shot down.




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