this morning in the fog, I came across in real life. Rather, in a possible variant of real life. I pedaled to throttle, because I was late as usual tremendous. I did the slalom among the people walking along the bike path, wondering irritably why did the old folks retire should leave home at dawn. To me that the old folks are very nice - apart from those who do appreciate slippery when they see me jogging in the summer and how much would be for twenty years younger and a bit 'out of breath more - but they usually do this very hard to understand it. And every morning I get nervous, as if for the first time I see them. In the meantime I had to yell even against the fog, which already last night made me angry, because, after having been a friend of mine, I had to drive to the 40 wide-eyed and sleep despite the pain in the ass, despite the inevitable at critical moments - attached to the seat, with the reflection of its lights to facilitate the whole. This morning, even snebbiava, that the fog was like rain, if you walk up that you do not notice, but if you expedite a minimum or if you go by bike, like myself, you feel like being inside a sauna, and infinitely more cold with a moisture content compared to that tropical forests are dry. But perhaps those who do not have to deal regularly with the phenomenon of fog, like the rest of us are of the area, can not understand me fully, but believe me when I tell you that the word is unbearable. In short, all taken by the leadership of my two-wheeled racing car, to control the clock and curses to cry in the deep mattutinsclerotico of myself, I risked to invest two living beings. A man and a dog. A blind man with his guide dog. And this afternoon, as I ran, I could not help but think back to that time. I figured this would be like if, instead of February 26, 2008 an embarrassed mumble "excuse me" and then set off wildly to the library, I had stopped and I parked the bike. As would be closer to the man and ask him his name, the name of the dog. How would ask, 'Would you walk with me? If you want the story to the world around us.. " What then, what I said? Well, maybe I just started and the fog effect which shows the Rock Imola wrapped in her curtain. I would have said that all had something of a medieval, ancient, mysterious. I would then reconnected to the feeling of last night, seeing little guide to how the road ahead, having the feeling of being separate and distant from everything and everyone. We laughed while I described what had been an angry old woman with a driver who had slowed down the last second, though she was on the pedestrian crossing for some time. We would probably joke about all those things that until a moment before I looked like the end of the world. And, if we had been together all day, I might even try my hand in the representation of the fog that slowly rises, giving way to a pale sun, but spring already. I would have taken to the street where I'm going to run normally, I would have told to leave the dog and let it run in the fields and in the meantime I would have got a bit 'of colors, from light sky blue to violet flowers, the winter blues houses at the green grass in the gardens. And I thought it would be a much better February 26.
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