Children Nitrogen It 'nice to have a house. A place a home, something where you can go back and find a bed. Finally we had the money. Children from an early age of the building hiding places, burrows, bases, even inside the house where they live, because he needs a place of refuge, a place of their own. Crescendo men can no longer hide, so the houses are built or bought houses, but life in the light of the sun is always difficult and, sometimes, by doing the night is not unusual that you start to look for his hiding place and find it actually, in a bath of a station, a motel, behind a tree, behind their hands. Why the world does not want just accept that children are a finite resource, much more fragile, expensive, essential oil. Thus is established and assigned a role rather than a place and the children grow, slowly, hopelessly, grow. When I saw "Hook" was scared to see that old Wendy and Peter Pan so fat, and how I laughed when the bowls were filled with really only the imagination. There should be more happy thoughts? I do not know, you should start with the first thoughts, the thoughts of children, to make him believe that the paper airplanes that fly really well then we can teach that every person who stops believing in fairies makes the dry light of life. For each so I was escaping from my assigned role, and now I had my place. It had taken time, money and some hustler, leaving out the thefts, but now the city was leaden, the sky encrusted with gray edges looked sullen swollen the city's rooftops, antennas, trees in the distance and everything seemed to be happening on my balcony, animated by the smoke of good Camel. Click.
- What are you thinking?
- Nothing ...
- Etienne, thought, you know suits you?
so I'll call you - I've done a photo?
- some
- without permission ...
- Clearly
- ...
- We go out a bit, going to do at night is a fantastic time to make
photos - I finish the cigarette and we go out
- You can not smoke on your travels?
- It 's a bad habit, Armand
- It needs its rituals ...
- Yes, it needs to be pampered
I love the twilight, especially in the gray days that scream to the world to prepare for rain, because at this time take the gray shades of blue, of blue, and dell'etereo this hard dirty ground like a stage for a few close friends. Etienne I look, the look black to look black. A woman is watering the flowers on the balcony in front of us, her husband beats her, she can hear noises at night when flying back home. Downstairs a young pianist plays "Fur Elise." Delicious. I met her often at night in the park, we do not ever say goodbye, is very professional at work. The lady who rented us the room has some Arab features, has three daughters, her husband has disappeared, probably killed him dead, even more likely to run away with another. Spends all day washing, cleaning, dusting, make keys, and take hold in his hands, infinitely smaller hands, eager to learn how to write and play with dolls. I come to Etienne, the balcony, I see her coming out with girls who become entangled in its arms like birds that swoop against the beak of the mother, when a worm back home. Wrapped in a shawl, it's going to Bistros de la Ville, where it proposes performances based on the great singer Edith Piaf. Once I went to see it: it is glorious. She gives off light at night. Gringoire Sabatin exudes a different kind of light the night, and the glitter. He washed dishes, then at this time, always at this hour, leaving the English pub in the neighborhood, because the British do not move without a pub that reminds him home, and goes n.01 Etoile, a local drag queen, undresses, puts on a beautiful raven wig, some lipstick, mascara and pencil, he retires in a bodice and long skirt in a wheel c. .. Glitter, that's all. For every man who finds himself in the night, there is another that is lost in its arms.
why I love the twilight, because it is the time when the sea melts into the sky, and why people are starting to take shape, and lose, in millions of invisible cities. And I go out to photograph them invisible.
Etienne finished his cigarette go out. - Still do not move from there ... damn!
- I'm moving
- ... you're moving
- Take a photo, I smoked twenty cigarettes while I find the right angle
- I know ...
-...
- That's it, perfect, come and see what you create here, some photos and do some make art, I in my little ...
- Come here Armand
- What?
- ... look ...
One child in front of an ice cream, hand in hand with his father.
- Which ice cream do you want?
- Chocolate
- Mademoiselle could make me a cup chocolate ice cream?
- Oui, monsieur, that's her
- No no
Daddy - What's
- I want another color
- What? Coffee?
- Coffee coffee ... yes
- Mademoiselle excuse me, I could put the coffee in the ...
- No, no one
- What?
- What color there?
- The cream?
- No, no cream, the color there, that Dad!
- Hazelnut? brown Antoine?
- Yes, that color there
- Mi perdoni signorina, allora la nocciola
- Benissimo
- Merci
Etienne sorrideva, mentre si stringeva nel suo giubbotto nero, poi abbassò lo sguardò e gettò la sigaretta.
- Che c'è?
- Pensieri felici...
- Stasera Lola, voleva sapere se possiamo andare al reading di Jean-Luc, il suo ultimo ragazzo
- Io non posso
- come mai?
- Niente...non mi va
Alle Sacre Coeur c'è un balcone, dove ci si può appoggiare e vedere tutta Parigi, a volte dei musicisti improvvisano dei concerti, a volte puoi sentire il silenzio che parla la lingua degli uomini, al crepuscolo è un quadro che perde lentamente i colori, mentre gli artisti di strada se ne vanno taking away their palettes.
- I want to take a picture
- Another one?
- Yes, sit there in front of the stairs, the people behind
- so good?
-
Click Yes.
- let me see
- Here's looking
- ...
-...
- What does this mean?
The photo showed clear all people in the distance, and Etienne was blurred in the foreground.
- I photographed your invisibility
- Eh?
- At dusk, we're all invisible, without exception, waiting to take shape
-...
-...
-... true
Etienne put his hands on the marble balcony and pulled out a cigarette.
- They say that tonight there will be shooting stars
- That time, Etienne, he can not even see a
- And who stops to watch more shooting stars?
- none
- It 's a beauty too innocent for a world so ugly, there are too many lights in the city
- the lights to show us what we are really
- killers of fairies and falling stars
- no, Invisible Cities cars full of gasoline
- yet the stars still fall
- already
-...
- you know, Etienne, say two stars, if you get close enough to collide but do not, they could create a new gravitational field, drawing a different orbit that keeps them both
- without falling over ...
- I do not know if it works for the stars falling ... I was not so good at astronomy
smiled, but Etienne was absorbed
-... and then straight up in the morning
-What?
- and then straight on till morning
- Barrie?
- Peter Pan
Armand looked around and then her eyes went skyward
- Let's go see the stars out of town tonight?
- No
we admire him from here - you sure?
- We can make electric cars, but not children to nitrogen.
Armand smiled and shut himself in his coat, turned Etienne, a cigarette in his mouth and continued to walk, sharp in the crowd, and now the night was near.
