Here the situation is incredibly amazing, impossibly unlikely. Yesterday it snowed all day. Snow fort. The piles of snow swept away by shovel and deposited along the roadside are really high. A tree has fallen here in front of destroying a car and a dumpster. Walking down the street (in areas not shoveling) you feel 20/30 cm lower (and in fact six 30 inches below the level of snow).
And then the man sitting next to me last night at the jazz club was really absurd, like an elegantly dressed nobleman of the nineteenth century, with a cigar in his mouth, a hairstyle that went beyond physical law touching the paranormal and a sad and thoughtful and curls of smoke that is released into the rhythm of the music, the voice of that novel Billie Holiday. The noble gestures and sad, looked like a fictional character, and there he was, real. The fifty-foot deep snow outside, the atmosphere inside jazzclub New York, the pumpkin ravioli with melted butter on the table and the man from who knows what movie or book next to me ... The tree fell and many people who fought against the snow in the afternoon. Who because he had lost something (he spoke of one packet of white ... € 200), who got it from work commitments, had to pull the car out from that pile of snow, who, lost in the night in a city that did not know, you was found in a dead-end street, and meet in the street, on his return home, to the reality that tomorrow will see me back at work, in writing, back to class in the afternoon, he asked me, "sorry I'm lost, you know tell me how to get to the center? " And I, even though I had lost, I did not know where I was, what kind of world I was I said. I replied that I would have answered any other day. I was in front of my faculties. I knew how to get to the center avoiding blocked roads and I told him. And then I went home. I slept, I woke up, and here I am. Yesterday was a day of some surreal, unreal, imaginary and crazy. Smoky and snowy.
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