Difficult Loves
Italo Calvino
Language: English
Pages: 300
ISBN: 0156260557
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
fish, Zeffirino was the smartest; but in the presence of people, he resumed his gaping, stammer ing air. "I'm sorry, signora. ..." He would have liked to get back to his bream, but a fat, crying woma n was such an unusual sight that he stayed there, spellbound, gaping at her in spite of himself. "I'm not a signora, kid," the fat woma n said with her noble, somewhat nasal voice. "Call me 'signor ina.' Signor ina De Magistris. And what's your name?" "Zeffirino." "Well, fine, Zeffirino. How's the
are big fields full of berga mots, nothing but berga mote, and ever yone picks berga mots from mor ning till night. I've got fourteen brothers and sisters and they all pick berga mots; five died when they were babies, and then my mother got tetanus, and we were in a train for a week to go to Uncle Carmelo's, and eight of us all slept in a gara ge there. Tell me, why do you have such long hair?" They had stopped. "Beca use it grows like that. You've got long hair, too." "I'm a girl. If you wear
replied the armed ma n. "J ust a few questions, and they'll let you go. They've got to cross off your name from the list of spies." "Ha ve you got a list of spies?" "Of course we have. We know 'em all, the spies. And we get 'em, one by one." "And my name's on it?" "Yes, your name, too. They must cross it off properly now, or you risk being taken again." "Then I really should go there myself, so I can expla in the whole thing to them." "We're going there now. They have to look into it properly to
don't make such a fuss." The lad ies passed hurriedly by, and Barbagallo felt himself brushed by the soft folds smelling of camphor and lily of the valley. "A fine fur, signora, unquestionably; it must be nice and warm under that!" As each woma n passed, he stretched out his hand and stroked her fur. "Help," they screamed. Then he rubbed his cheek against the furs like a cat. There was a confabulation inside Fabrizia's; no one dared come out any more. "Should we call the police?" they asked
his Venezuela, remember ing old Europe—poor, but always faithful to the cult of beauty and pleasure—and thinking instinctively of his friend, the schoolma te seen again after so ma ny years, always with that prudent appearance and yet completely sure of himself: the ma n who hadn't abandoned Europe and virtually symbolized its ancient wisdom of life, its wary passions. ... Gnei grew excited: thus the adventure of the previous night could have left a mark, taken on a definitive mea ning, instead