Dream

Dream.

When he regained his breath turned to bandy band and fearful of being prosecuted. No one discovered anywhere. Was interned along a vineyard. Not seen anywhere but sweet things inanimate: vines, olive trees, woods marginal plans, hills … And what purer and more peaceful night! The trees, the trees lovers starlight night, they still remember the day and seem to exude amplitude light by the foliage, then it moved silently with falter vagorós, and railed with the moonlight for better sodas it and absorb it. The breeze was suavíssim; the sky, an immaculate serenity, landscape, mysteriously deserted. They were all beautiful things removed from human boldness! Man was the only source of ugliness, of the night extravaganza … Oh sweet and serene! Peace was everywhere, and the Jerome felt, but could not enjoy it.

Damn, the pilgrim’s gourd! And I damn it, I consent to crabs! I had been badly swindled hundred times … and why? It is worse that having me entrapped machine thinking? It was like believing in the good faith of the people! Those lips, that smiled impalement were samosas more than any flower garden, when one could see the bad seepage caterpillars to Duding. Lightning! is a sad case my. And I go? Who enraonaré, who m’acompanyaré, that we turn to fisticuffs? Ear, I see some things happen! … Some things that can not be … and are future! Who knows? And if the dream? Other times I have dreamed of such extravagances as so palpable, and then waking up, I thought – “you do not know, animal, could not be but a dream?”

He put himself in an ancient olive tree look very high, but remember a nightmare, which had a internalizes night. I dreamed that climbed the bell tower of the Cathedral of Corona, the first dark staircase up to the top landing of the bells, and then the top of the dome, to the cage of the angel, a rise that is awesome terror. Already reached the last step, when Wrist …! … It slipped one foot, makes Bellanca, lose your balance, try to recover it, stumbles with his own legs, on the tomb of grill smooth dome, slipped to its slope will be estimate and cling desperately to the ledge, subtracting nailed hands with bell hanging outside the body. I just think that there m’escruixesc. Could not catch me either. The arms are  fingers … I was going to drain for about seaplane stone … Well what seemed true! And, tired of suffering, I thought: “Better die once.” I loosened hands down … and windproof! Evicted … from life, covered the spirits exudate’s ears roar of the air. And nothing, with the fall pastime I hit a jackpot of stomach and I woke up so beautifully actuate my bed. Well, who knows, Lady? If m’enfilés on top of me and pulled debacle that olive branch high, with leaves falling pots I woke up in bed … I woke pots eternity. -Lightning! what ideas I’d! Server, Jerome. A wrong step is taken soon. We are not by steps, they can not back up. Life is a ball, which, when turned on, who knows where it is lost and never come back to the hand.

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