At two and five afternoon a particularly hot August twenty-four Diane Olsen woke up dripping with sweat shirt and a pair of pink shorts stained with chocolate on his left leg. Diane closed his eyes with a look of annoyance on her face, stretched his arms upward moving the sheet up and down in an attempt to spend some 'air and then stood staring at the ceiling. The light filtering through the blinds wide open and came straight at him, but she was not to be discouraged. He tried for a long time to find a comfortable position to continue to sleep, he tried to turn back but could not breathe and felt too hot, try putting on his side but could not take that position sleep, until finally he had to admit to herself that the only credible alternative is that the crossroads at the bed was to fall back and close the shutter.
Diane Olsen will trudge to the edge of the mattress, sat cross-legged on the bed and began cursing to himself. As he continued to swear, trying to focus on the forms around her, she was suddenly remembered the dream he had just before you open your eyes. Several blurred figures in his head, the memory was very confused, but very focused Diane could make out some details. Indistinct in the flow of images she was walking in a cold and snowy forest, in his footsteps to get lost in the darkness behind him. Then there was a glass of lemonade full to the brim, Diane pressed him in his right hand and attempted to maintain balance so as not to shake off a single drop as it moved awkwardly in the snow among the trees. In the dream, the lemonade was really important, Diane distinctly remembered having stolen from someone and that he knew that someone was chasing her back to. He could not remember what was so important in a glass of lemonade, but that pursuit was far too stressful and so finally she woke up, dripping with sweat.
With slow movements, dictated by fatigue, heat and despair, Diane was able to stretch your legs to stretch to the floor. The contact of fingers with the cold marble caused a little shiver of pleasure, yet he reached up to touch the ground with the whole palm of your feet, and so after a while finally stopped swearing. He looked up at the window and looked out to the opposite building, clothes hung out to dry in balconies lingered buildings, hanging from the wire, plastic, without even a breath of wind to ruffle and swing it. There seemed no signs of human life anywhere. In fact the day was very muggy and Diane Olsen was dying of heat, which is why at that moment he decided to finally give up to sleep, tense your arm muscles to give himself a push and got to his feet.
As soon as you put it in an upright position was struck by a small drop in pressure, the blurred vision you had to lean against the wall and not to lose his balance. He took a deep breath, stood a few seconds and waited for the dizziness to pass. He felt weak and hungry. Also felt distinctly the smell of lemonade still in the air, and wished to have a chilled glass with her whole being. Diane knew perfectly well that in the fridge there was nothing remotely like a frozen lemonade, but with a little 'luck could have found a Coca Cola or Sprite. The landlord liked practically non-carbonated beverages and drink more. Diane walked dragging his bare feet on the floor to the door of his room before going out to his figure looked in the mirror above the desk. He saw a girl far too thin, his face and dug a little 'make-up residue around the eyes. He shook his head and looked at the alarm clock, eyes widened in amazement. He had not realized how late it was.
is for all these reasons that the two twenty-seven pm on August twenty-four Diane Olsen came out of his room wearing only a T-shirt dripping with sweat and a pair of pink shorts stained with chocolate on his left leg. The hallway was flooded
of a white light and strong and to not get blinded had to squint. Diane moved slowly on the dirt floors and creaky, well-being careful to avoid the roughest strips so as not to make too much noise. His eyes rested once again on the paintings hung in series in the short piece of blank wall before the bathroom door. We were represented at the uniforms of all armies from the war's most famous story. The landlord was a fan of military culture and the apartment was full of references, more or less veiled, to his great passion. Diane walked by reviewing the frames one by one, he paused a few seconds more before the her favorite. It was the picture of the seal of the order of the French marshals during the Napoleonic period. What impressed her most was not the lavish decoration of oak leaves embroidered in gold on the uniform, starting from the chest up to the code in the back of the jacket and sleeves, but rather Diane was particularly struck by the expression that the painter had caught on her face of that military and secured with a pencil on paper. In fact, a keen eye could see without difficulty that, among all the soldiers portrayed in the series of small paintings, the French marshal of the Napoleonic empire was the only one who was laughing.
Diane went into the bathroom to pee without closing and lock the door. The landlord was definitely out for several hours before going to work, and she was sure to be left alone in the apartment. For this reason, do not worry, once satisfied his physiological needs, to occupy the room for over half an hour in order to wipe the makeup from her face and define your eyebrows with tweezers. The round mirror attached to the wall magnified details in a monstrous and allowed to observe the smallest imperfections of the skin with cruel accuracy. Diane thought for the umpteenth time that it was time to buy a specific treatment to get rid of some 'of pimples, but in his heart he knew perfectly well that it should be forgotten Today, as always, in a few minutes. When he emerged from the bathroom was now past three in the afternoon.
Diane felt his stomach grumbling loudly from hunger and thought it was time to eat something, so he went to the kitchen. After a few steps but stopped with surprise expression on his face, he wondered to himself why the glass door of the darkened kitchen was closed. The landlord had, among other obsessions that accompanied his every move, even wide open to let all possible openings in the apartment. He said that this was impossible to hide something, and argued with conviction that the sincerity and honesty were essential for a healthy living for the common good. Diane had struggled a little strange to get used to that rule, the only exception is that the bathroom door, and only during the hours of sleep, one of his room. For this he was very surprised, to say the contrary, in the afternoon to find that the glass door of the darkened kitchen closed. Diane opened the door with a burst of arrogance, as if to affirm herself that this movement was the materialisation of an important rule, and that no one could afford to break it in any way. But Diane had agreed immediately that it was not anger, but more amazing, the feeling is best for those occasions. Indeed The situation was very strange. Before her was a stranger, bare-chested, standing in front of the refrigerator, with a carton of milk in hand.
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