Annoyed threw cane and trout in the dry river bed of the river and sat on the bed of stones.
He took off his boots with difficulty, the socks were soups, frozen feet were gnarled and wrinkled like the skin of an old man. Were reddish as sour cherries, while the skin under the nails and on the bones was white and everything seemed to be on view from meat butcher.
He felt in his pockets and pulled out the catalytic warmer, it was still loading, hand contact was pleasant. Then came the soles of the feet against each other causing a crack in the knees and feeling a sharp pain in the groin, put that thing between your feet warm with the same style with which you put a slice of ham between two pieces of Fresh bread and keeping the big toe with one hand, squeezing his socks in the other, so he remained motionless until he felt the blood backflushes purplish veins and bulging of the feet. Then drew a deep sigh of relief.
In that moment of bliss Hugh went in spirit to the black figure against the light that he had seen on the train framed the window as a future framework or a shadow of China.
the passage of the convoy had been intrigued by the fact that he had stopped right there on it: it had never happened, then he immediately got out of the stack to see what was happening. Finding a quiet scene, he resumed his fishing, but every now and then, however, the gaze rested on that train, railway carriages of those lacquered wood with white and blue, the puffs and especially intolerant of the boiler at that window where you could see more unrest: figures moving through from one location to another, meet, mingle, stopped face to face, passed over to other windows. Finally all was quiet, still, still. Only a black figure of a woman was extruded from the window, a sunbeam was able to highlight only a black scarf around her head, as well as black in the shade.
The rest was prolonged and Ugo pestered by the steam engine that had failed to break his peace, he thought that there was no place to flee, but was increasingly drawn to this window, attracted by the silhouette slim, but powerful, elusive to the woman, neither young nor old, neither beautiful nor ugly, neither notice nor blonde: black!
alternated gaze between the flickering glare of the water and changing the black outline of the shadow in the window shut as desired Smoke and tongues of flame. And the heart is warmed. Then thought better of his loneliness, his inability to deal with women, his indecision, his thoughts, the missed opportunities ... Counting now find that the adventures were not few, but for the fact were only adventure stories without substance, everything was fine as long as it remained superficial, non-binding, but as soon as there was a hint of depth, the birth ties, with proposals for the future, even simple projects, Ugo lost its security, its calm, its peace.
The true knowledge of a woman, to accept as a whole, its strengths and weaknesses, hands and feet, flesh and spirit, past and future, blocked him, scared him until you feel the chills on your back and chest in a cold bleak. Even the sinuous forms and abundant of her body, her silky skin, especially on this exciting and irresistible became secondary, eventually becomes completely indifferent as those of a stone statue of a perfect and subtle beauty. They took the body rather than invisible and intangible characteristics that are the true appearance of persons before nuanced and promising, then clear and contrasting, and finally net unchangeable, with irreconcilable desires.
So he had gone from his mind, and his life, all his women, and all his stories were finished, leaving only thin and meandering track. It was only with women! In the same way it was over with family, friends, companions of the movement, co-workers ...
Ugo did not want to be explored, probed deep drilling from outside, the conversation about himself made him more naked than I can do the physical nakedness but he had always accepted with extraordinary ease, talking of his feelings made him more ashamed of any immoral act, not being inclined to take was more than willing to forgive and understand. It was also why I had no interest in drilling the others, no desire to discover buried treasures, veins or a secret underground rivers.
The closed, narrow, dark, had always provided a strong physical discomfort, the caves had been the terror of his child. He preferred to remain on the surface, the light, under the sky.
of this surface would prefer the least altered by man, pristine nature as a child she had at hand and then over the years had started to look further afield, more and more desperate.
The mountain, forest, brook, fisheries derived from this. But another fact justified the choice of fishing instead of other activities such as looking for mushrooms, climb the highest peaks, walking just for the heck of it: love for the ritual.
Life planned, no surprises that unfolds according to a predetermined schedule in detail and which does not escape even the most stupid action, the most banal gesture was receiving over him an irresistible charm, hypnotic. The fishing was a ritual or better fishing for Hugh was a ritual, nothing was left to chance or the unexpected, the important thing was not to catch the fish, but play just as it was thought, every action in the best way possible and in due order of time without forgetting anything. During the ritual, the time spent at high speed, the greater the more the gestures were slow and thoughts were light and calm. The fishing was a ritual positive because was imposed by others, but chosen by those who officiated, the stupid job of warden was negative because it was a ritual developed by the master and now by Ugo who was to act, in fact you had to attend, without being conscious of the smallest step or activity particular. However, even this silly ritual work was always better improvisation, dell'insensatezza, the chaos of modern life.
At one point he turned the black shadow of the side for a moment, and Hugh saw the supple lines of her body stand out like a distant horizon in the light of the window, the woman was confused with nature. It was a moment, then resumed the contours form a squat and nameless until almost disappeared from sight was just a ball wrapped in a handkerchief.
Hugh tried to think of who belonged to that shadow, who was the woman who wore, but this was anything but an exercise in ritual, but required considerable skills of analysis, intuition, imagination, but this was not the most worrying: the difficulty was not having a single reference, the more uncertain path forward that was not black shadow that changes form every second.
soon exhausted Hugh thought of nothing else, the fact that this very thinking these thoughts were not part of the rite of fishing, were unexpected, as was the rest of the train on the bridge, as it was at the bottom of the capture trout.
Suddenly he turned and looking at the fish gills was surprised that in alerting you inflate and deflate at the same pace with which employed his lungs still out of breath after exertion unexpected, emerged from the mouth of a trout thin wire, its a slight puff of breath.
Suddenly the trout gave a last gasp, and then stood still, and matte gray as so many other countless stones.
The sun was already beginning to fall between the peaks of the old wood.
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