Can You Put Preparation H On A Hamster

kitchen


of his childhood at the end was what he remembered most clearly. other memories were dim with age, hours were lost in the murky images in his head wrapped in pale reflections of light, like looking at an old home video shot with the first digital cameras, always with the blurred images and dark.
but now the floor of the kitchen when he was child was there before his eyes, sharp, typical of Italy with 70 marble, studded with colored stones from the split. Charles remained in the room while his mother idling listening to the radio. the house was not big and he just sat there at the table, with legs that barely touched the ground, sitting listlessly on a chair while trying to do the tasks of the elementary school, constantly afraid of being scolded for some non-compliance.
always and continually staring at the floor. as escape from the kitchen, broken by the white light of the chandelier above the table, with white furniture and wood-colored knobs and the smell of tomato sauce and fry that had been soaked in walls.
knew every little detail of the floor around his seat, crossed the imaginary fantasy designs suggested by the grain and colored stones. was an expanse of exotic animals, grotesque characters, of devices that could function only in his head and who knows what could serve ... wondered if only he could see all those stories and adventures, he wondered if his mother and the rest of the family that was not nothing but a simple floor of a kitchen and he was the only child to get lost in those hidden recesses.
whenever she was scolded, whenever attending a fight, every time her mother was silent and gloomy, he shunned the tiles in the company of the parrot and the bulldozer.
carlo realized that was the only memory of his childhood continuous, the only one to emerge spontaneously.

paused to reflect.

tried to scroll in his memory, like a scroll of data and files.
then he also remembered the evenings, rare, of joy, which burst with laughter mocking the family and he literally rolled on the floor and cried and almost choked from laughing. were sultry August evening in Turin, there was no school the next day, we ate late and played pinochle.
but had to stop and concentrate those moments to emerge