Post by account_disabled on Dec 13, 2023 23:11:05 GMT -5
It was Erardo again, showing me where to sit, at the other end of the table. At that moment I cursed the darkness of that house and the sense of oppression it gave me. "Marsilio," my friend suddenly said in a faint voice, coming closer. «Angelica is very ill. She hardly speaks anymore, except in a few monosyllables. Furthermore, she is very tired, but she didn't want to miss dinner and your company, even if she won't be able to converse with us." “Don't worry, Erardo,” I reassured him. "I understand very well." Erardo introduced us, even though he sat between me and his wife and I was too far away to shake her hand.
But I paid no attention to it, since, if the woman needed help to eat, as I knew, she certainly had difficulty in the common use of her limbs. Then my friend got up and went to the kitchen to get dinner. Those minutes, alone in the dark room with his wife, were the longest of my life. I felt extremely embarrassed. I wanted to talk to her, but it wouldn't have been polite, since the Phone Number Data woman couldn't answer me. Finally I decided to say something anyway, even if it seemed enormously banal to me. "I'm happy to have seen Erardo again after a long time," I said, and my voice sounded artificial as if it had been produced by an imitator of dubious quality.
I saw the woman move her head slightly, perhaps in response, and I imagined the effort and suffering behind that timid movement. Fortunately, Erardo's arrival took me out of that predicament. I was curious to know what he had prepared for dinner. Upon entering the room shortly before, I had noticed a sweetish smell, which probably came from the kitchen. But when Erardo placed the tray of a roast turkey with a side of potatoes on the table, he greeted us with an unmistakable aroma that whetted my appetite. I attributed the smell I had smelled earlier to the flowers, since the dining room was also full of them.
But I paid no attention to it, since, if the woman needed help to eat, as I knew, she certainly had difficulty in the common use of her limbs. Then my friend got up and went to the kitchen to get dinner. Those minutes, alone in the dark room with his wife, were the longest of my life. I felt extremely embarrassed. I wanted to talk to her, but it wouldn't have been polite, since the Phone Number Data woman couldn't answer me. Finally I decided to say something anyway, even if it seemed enormously banal to me. "I'm happy to have seen Erardo again after a long time," I said, and my voice sounded artificial as if it had been produced by an imitator of dubious quality.
I saw the woman move her head slightly, perhaps in response, and I imagined the effort and suffering behind that timid movement. Fortunately, Erardo's arrival took me out of that predicament. I was curious to know what he had prepared for dinner. Upon entering the room shortly before, I had noticed a sweetish smell, which probably came from the kitchen. But when Erardo placed the tray of a roast turkey with a side of potatoes on the table, he greeted us with an unmistakable aroma that whetted my appetite. I attributed the smell I had smelled earlier to the flowers, since the dining room was also full of them.