Post by account_disabled on Dec 14, 2023 5:08:45 GMT
From the boat on which he was sailing, along the muddy waters of the river, he watched the dawn illuminate that now gone world, the rays of the sun that seemed to no longer want to touch those putrid and diseased lands. One by one he pulled the strands out of a ruined fishing net, setting aside the threads that she could reuse, throwing away the shorter ones in a haul . In a sack next to her legs he kept the odds and ends he fished out of the water, a coutil bust , a shepherd's hat, the handle of an axe, an old umbrella, tattered trousers.
He nibbled on a piece of michetta that he had brought with him from the shack, chewing slowly to make that poor and tasteless meal last longer. When the boat passed under a branch that extended towards the water like the arm of a Phone Number Data supplicant, he noticed bubbles of air rising to the surface and under the liquid and yellowish veil of the river the dark shape of an argironeta trembling in the weak current of the waves. And sciuridi chase each other on the branches of the aquatic trees as if indifferent to the world that was rotting in an infinite swamp. From under his woolen shirt he took out a bronze oscillum , the embossed figure no longer recognisable, an ancient jewel of a value now lost or a pendant on some modern necklace.
She played with it as she swallowed the rest of the bread, swinging it in front of his bearded face and wondering if he could hypnotize himself. The amaurotic eyes could barely distinguish the movement of the pendulum and the colors of life around. It was no longer a land, that, he told himself, the infamous gehenna that condemned him to survive without redemption, a punishment inflicted on those who, stubbornly, had not surrendered to the liberating collective suicide. In the silence of his wandering he broke down and the stench of his intestinal gas was confused with the stench of that slime that exhaled from the world that was rotting and not deciding to succumb.
He nibbled on a piece of michetta that he had brought with him from the shack, chewing slowly to make that poor and tasteless meal last longer. When the boat passed under a branch that extended towards the water like the arm of a Phone Number Data supplicant, he noticed bubbles of air rising to the surface and under the liquid and yellowish veil of the river the dark shape of an argironeta trembling in the weak current of the waves. And sciuridi chase each other on the branches of the aquatic trees as if indifferent to the world that was rotting in an infinite swamp. From under his woolen shirt he took out a bronze oscillum , the embossed figure no longer recognisable, an ancient jewel of a value now lost or a pendant on some modern necklace.
She played with it as she swallowed the rest of the bread, swinging it in front of his bearded face and wondering if he could hypnotize himself. The amaurotic eyes could barely distinguish the movement of the pendulum and the colors of life around. It was no longer a land, that, he told himself, the infamous gehenna that condemned him to survive without redemption, a punishment inflicted on those who, stubbornly, had not surrendered to the liberating collective suicide. In the silence of his wandering he broke down and the stench of his intestinal gas was confused with the stench of that slime that exhaled from the world that was rotting and not deciding to succumb.