The clear sky. Gray clouds weigh on the flat roofs of the houses. Shelves covered with green shutters. An off-white curtains fluttering flapping on the railings, ornate iron, such as shaken by invisible ghosts.
The yellow walls, made of large bricks. And cornices, with bas-reliefs, red of different designs, slightly scraped from the weather.
The wind stirs a cartel, "en venta" .. 932853470. All
Travessera de gracia echoes of the cries of the tourists, shopkeepers and children who crowd it. The continuous line of cars .. "Coche" .. moves slowly, occupying the entire Careggi, from seven in the morning until three in the morning, producing a continuous vibration of 'air heavy with smog.
Silence ... well, that is not here. Night Falls, which is the day, it's a holiday or business, the "Calle" regurgitates a constant noise, a continuous murmur that I still can not decipher. I
"acostumbraro" on it ...
Over time, these words turn into images, but for now .. must be satisfied, and indulge the imagination.
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