"I believe in good people and things I can do. And I think you're the most I know good and better than me at almost everything. That's why I did what I did and I rushed here. Because I think, rather, because I'm sure, we should do it. I'm sure you should slip into the ring and say yes before the first priest we meet or the mayor, because I know where he lives and would not be a problem. Just so. I'm sure you should do this one simple thing. Why do I need it, because I love you. And why would you know it very well. "
were sitting on a peeling green benches of the park near a river. An old wooden bench, engraved with typical teenage love and praise to the team. She looked down, perhaps watching l’astuccio dell’anello, che tremava visibilmente nonostante lui facesse di tutto per tenere la mano immobile, o forse no, forse aveva solo lo sguardo perso nel verde della panchina. La natura intorno profumava abbondantemente di legno, resina e fiori, e cinguettava, tubava, ronzava e li avvolgeva con sfumature di verdi e di gialli, di rossi e di lilla, di luci e di ombre. Eppure Marco non percepiva altro che il profumo dolce di lei, riusciva a vedere solo la sua canottiera azzurra intorno al profilo del seno, la gonna di cotone beige che le avvolgeva le gambe abbronzate e riusciva ad ascoltare solo quell’inaccettabile, inatteso, silenzio. Avvertì una fitta allo stomaco. La nuca si irrigidì e un brivido gli percorse la schiena, nonostante the sultry heat of that afternoon in late summer. Sonia moved imperceptibly look in front of him. But he did say that was good? A nice thing, after all. And he also said that she knew almost everything? And it was true or was he only saw her like that? And finally he asked her to marry him really? He pulled out the box, opened it, with an obsessive movements and began to speak. The way he said those things to her it seemed strange. He could not say exactly why, but they seem to written words, rather than spoken. He was brave, confident, had the right breaks, he starred as the joke would fatto un attore consumato. Le aveva fatto venire in mente sua madre, ciò che le ripeteva continuamente. Anche se arriveranno inevitabilmente i fallimenti, tu non perdere mai la speranza. Devi crederci. C’è una e una sola persona che potrai amare davvero e che saprà ricambiarti in egual misura. Una sola. E’ là fuori da qualche parte e se ci credi, finirai per incontrarla. Non accontentarti mai, figlia mia. Non arrenderti. E poi lui aveva detto ti amo, proprio così, e in quel momento lei aveva sollevato lo sguardo. Marco si era spettato uno di quegli ampi sorrisi di cui lei era capace, pensava che lo avrebbe guardato dritto negli occhi e che avrebbe fatto la sua parte, senza indugi. Immaginava che lo avrebbe baciato, gettandogli le braccia neck. But she had only moved imperceptibly look in front of him. But God! What does it do? Marco had repeated those words hundreds of times. He had heard, he felt the breaks, had enjoyed the sound and decided that they were fair, accurate. And now she was petrified, she had nothing to add, anything, even a sigh, he cracked that it was imagined perfection. Was her turn to speak and he could only wait. But why not say anything? Better to say no right away. Perhaps he had been hasty. But you could just say that it would be better to wait and he would understand, he swallowed with ease and it would be done for a reason. Or did not love him enough? Or maybe you did not love him anymore? No, this could not believe he did not want to believe. But what then looked with so much attention? What could be more important than that. The two women came running perhaps? Marco looked the same direction. A long, narrow shape, exhibited a perfect race, precise, rose from the ground with regular jumps as if drawing, with the distance, a slight sound wave. The other, round and large, seem to roll, crawl, feet wrapped in a cloud of dust, it seemed he could not break away from the dirt road. A Marco recalled the antics of Laurel & Hardy and smiled for a moment. Now they were close enough. One was very beautiful. Alta, austere, the thigh muscles which tended to every step in the white skin, shiny blond hair, pulled back and tied into a short tail at the nape, the smooth forehead, small nose and straight, his cheeks a sheer pale pink , purple lips, parted, which are showing a thin line of white teeth. But the other, certainly more than the pounds, her face was disfigured by the effort and the eyes dark circles marked by deep purple. Marco lingered on her thighs and hips as wobbly panna cotta. Then he climbed up to the enormous breasts that bounced with every step between the chin and belly fat. He noticed the dark red cheeks, mouth wide open, tongue resting on the lower lip. He felt even il suo respiro affannoso, quasi un rantolo che avvolgeva il silenzio perfetto della corsa dell’altra. Per un attimo ne incrociò lo sguardo affaticato e quegli occhi piccoli, schiacciati dalle guance ingombranti, annegati in un sudore eccessivo, gli parvero occhi conosciuti. Cercò di ripescarli dal suo passato, elementari, medie, liceo, università, ma niente. Per educazione stava quasi per alzare una mano in segno di saluto, ma poi si ricordò perché era là, si ricordò delle parole che aveva appena pronunciato e il cuore saltò un battito, quando realizzò che lei non aveva ancora risposto. Da dietro, lo spettacolo delle due donne che si allontanavano rapidamente, era ancora più surreale. Da una parte muscoli almost immobile, which contracted rhythmically with elegant tension, wrapped in a tight blue shorts. On the other fat that spills over even the suit could contain fuchsia stretch, like when you pour a glass of beer too fast and thick white foam mounts and inevitably overflows. What a beautiful blonde one! But another look at it right now. Sonia lowered his gaze again. So far he had not had the courage to look explicitly the case with the ring. With the corner of his eye he noticed that his hand trembled slightly, then went back to looking around the inscription many years ago. The first boyfriend, how did you name? Ah, here it is! Mau and Sonia. Little Maurizio had a smile so much fun, with his huge front teeth from the rabbit. How many years had passed? Twenty-five? Maybe more. It looks a bit ', their names were still there, locked in the scope of an asymmetric and trembling heart, crossed by an unlikely arrow. Fossil entrusted to future generations, at least until the coach would stay there. But it was not the time for the boulevard of memories. It was certainly not the time to wander. He waited. On the benches around some mothers with wheelchair parked on the side, chatting amiably with one hand while cradling a baby sleeping. There were boys and girls struggling with a book, or a week. And beyond two elders. One spoke so excitedly, looking straight ahead as if he was talking to a caller that does not exist. The other merely nodded, and a sandwich crumbled over the heads of birds piled at his feet. And there were the fanatics of jogging. Small children approached up to 1:1 scale, but only for a moment, then continued, returning to shrink until it disappears. And there were children. The largest ran, shouting like madmen, kicking balls, vying games, jostle restless, crying. Rather than preschool, precariously ambulatory flickered bravely on untrained legs. It seemed were tumbling to the ground at any moment and instead, as supported by invisible wires, miraculously proceeded, one foot before the other, declaring war on this or that insect. The world is as usual. The park offered the usual spectacle, no one looked after them, no one could imagine the importance of that moment. Sonia finally decided to look at Mark in the eye. He had waited too long? But no, after all that he had just said something so strange, that she would have been able to do very well. It had been only a few seconds, enough time to absorb his words. Sonia smiled and felt his hair before slipping in the eye and tickle her cheek. Marco wanted scream. He could feel the eyes bulge, a node wrap themselves around the trachea. Parted lips and felt that in a moment would come of all his dismay, his regret for ruining everything, for thinking so arbitrarily, and that was the right time. But it is a smile that? At last the eyes of Sonia. Mark did not know if he should say something, it would have been better to prevent any of its objection and raise the possible embarrassment. Or if it was better to wait a while. And then finally she did. Drove behind the ear, with an elegant gesture, the lock of hair that had slipped over his face. A ray of sunshine, fragrant cherry, perched on his smile and she reached out sull'astuccio opened, which finally stopped shaking. And while countless other things were happening all around them, and a kaleidoscope of colors danced, flowed and voices and sounds, like when you're on a carousel and the world's constantly running around, she finally, with all the simplicity of which was able, he did.
"Yes," he said.
It was perfect.
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