Post by account_disabled on Dec 4, 2023 22:51:13 GMT -6
The stranger then took the plate with both hands and brought it to his nose, sniffed several times, smiling, then put the plate back on the table. “Come on, Fulvio, poor guy," the woman tried to calm him. “Maybe he doesn't know how to do it.” «Oh, no? And how has he done so far?" “They fed him.” "What?" “Think about it,” the woman said. «He IS definitely retarded. So of course he will have someone to help him with everything." “I'm certainly not taking it.” "I will do it." The afternoon came and went.
Fulvio tried to talk to the stranger again, but every attempt led to no result. He showed him his documents, with the hope that the other would take them out of him, but it was the usual smile that was answered. “I'll search Phone Number Data him,” the man said. "Are you kidding me?" “I wasn't serious.” The other spent several hours in front of the television, fascinated by that miniature world. Fulvio left a channel at random, giving up on making the other understand how to use the remote control. She brought him some books and magazines to the sofa, but the stranger turned a couple of them over in his hands, leafing through the pages while holding the books upside down, then abandoned them without interest. "I'll try calling Don Antonino," he said to his wife.
It was 5pm. They were both sitting on the armchairs in the living room, the stranger in the middle, staring at the TV. The evening of that winter day had fallen, the central radiators had turned on and a light warmth was spreading through the house. “Good, that's a nice idea,” the woman said. Fulvio dialed the number. After a few rings, they answered on the other end. "Ready?" «Good evening, can I speak to the parish priest?» “He is holding the evening service,” the voice replied. "Can I help you?" Fulvio explained the situation. He had to repeat the story a couple of times before he made himself understood. “I'm sorry, sir,” the voice said, “but we're really full.
Fulvio tried to talk to the stranger again, but every attempt led to no result. He showed him his documents, with the hope that the other would take them out of him, but it was the usual smile that was answered. “I'll search Phone Number Data him,” the man said. "Are you kidding me?" “I wasn't serious.” The other spent several hours in front of the television, fascinated by that miniature world. Fulvio left a channel at random, giving up on making the other understand how to use the remote control. She brought him some books and magazines to the sofa, but the stranger turned a couple of them over in his hands, leafing through the pages while holding the books upside down, then abandoned them without interest. "I'll try calling Don Antonino," he said to his wife.
It was 5pm. They were both sitting on the armchairs in the living room, the stranger in the middle, staring at the TV. The evening of that winter day had fallen, the central radiators had turned on and a light warmth was spreading through the house. “Good, that's a nice idea,” the woman said. Fulvio dialed the number. After a few rings, they answered on the other end. "Ready?" «Good evening, can I speak to the parish priest?» “He is holding the evening service,” the voice replied. "Can I help you?" Fulvio explained the situation. He had to repeat the story a couple of times before he made himself understood. “I'm sorry, sir,” the voice said, “but we're really full.