divertimentoromanzostoriestories&others

Monday, pill number 5

le storie di silvia
tempo di lettura: 3 minuti

Lesson n.2: to relate with your neighbor 

Of course, having always been a very ambitious girl, I immediately began to think that I could gain experience before sewing my Megan Markle style wedding dress on an entire collection of dresses designed by myself. So, when he gave me that blue chalk and told me that before cutting a fabric it was necessary to shape the edges two centimeters beyond the drawing, my eyes filled with tears. I was starting to create. Of course, I still had no clear idea of ​​what would have been my future, but one thing was certain, I had the scissors in my hand and the colored chalk, who could never stop me?

The days thus assumed a cadence and a rhythm that was always the same. I left school and ran to get home. It was about a quarter past four and I had time until 2 pm, the time my parents arrived. In that short time she gave me a kind of briefing on what I could do in the afternoon. I always wished that she would say to me, “You will help me to sew the tablecloth of the altar,” but nothing in fact. I do not even sew one in my whole life..

Every time I stopped for lunch at their home, there was always a side dish for the salad. I will never forget that mixed green salad, because my mother did not usually use balsamic vinegar, indeed, to tell the truth, a bottle of balsamic vinegar had never entered our house by mistake! So that flavor was completely new to me.

It was all new to me. The vinegar, the ability to sew and, above all, being able to watch television during lunch. Of course! Because unlike my parents, Mrs. Orietta was a fan of the soap opera The Bold and The Beautiful!

I don’t know, but that soap told of a world made of sequins, fashion shows, drawings and dresses. Now that I am bigger I would also add horns, sex, incest and crazy psychopaths, but at that time fortunately I still did not understand that the sister of the protagonist in reality was not the sister nor the terminal sick, while the other brother of the protagonist, this time the real one, she had sexual relations with her sister-in-law that a couple of months later she would have married instead with their father, just divorced from their stepmother, sister of the latter.the story of The Bold and The Beautiful

No. I could not understand all these things, but I waited every day to see some fashion show or some sketch of a dress and, when I saw it, I tried to catch as much detail as possible, to try to figure out how to draw my wedding dress. At the time there was neither Google nor Facebook of course!

 One day, it was about six o’clock in the afternoon and Mrs. Orietta told me «Would you like to come to Mass with me tonight?»

At first I thought he was joking then, given my ambition, I thought it was like the official entry into the eccentric cut and sewage entourage, so I accepted.

So our afternoons soon became whole days together. Lunch based on Beautiful and balsamic vinegar, three hours of sewing and then evening mass.

I had devised a plan of personal resources and games really Machiavellian: I ate being able to watch television, I sewed, I went to mass and received a gift. What did I want more from life? Moreover, my mother has never been so relaxed and calm in my regards as in that period apart from the fact that I did not do homework anymore  Unfortunately, everything finish and what remains in the years are only faded memories. One day the petite little friend of Orietta died and we were only mrs Orientta and I to sew. Soon, I would have abandoned her too, as I was growing and growing bigger and more curious towards that outside world that attracted me more and more with its colors and moods, but above all with its hormones

It so happened, from one day to the next that our frequentation became less and less assiduous. The lunches were less frequent and the afternoons began to be alternated because of the school homework that became more and more demanding over the years, until our meetings became sporadic.

Sometimes when I got back from school I felt terribly guilty that I almost passed under her balcony with a cat’s feline step to not be noticed. I didn’t want to be notice by her taht look at me with those narrow, hazel eyes that showed bitterness for my betrayal.

 See you on next monday 

BACK

Please follow and like us: