ppoli61

@ppoli611674629039 · 03 Dec 2020

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#shortstory 

I move away from the clearing, I crouch down for a small need, knees apart, ass down, thing hanging between my legs. I concentrate, because it is not really a little need, in short, this asshole is demanding.
I see if it comes out, I also look at the trickle of pee that runs over the pine needles, dry and yellow. I see the petiole they have at the top, when I was a boy I was taught to weave necklaces, it was enough to take the tip and insert it right into the petiole.
Then, seeing that it goes on for long, I raise my head.
And I see it. I see the pine forest for the first time in hours, after having eaten the zerri under the pesto, perhaps because from this position, face up, you can hear the wind moving the tops, and the light rains from the branches, and flakes of sun flakes my skin as if I too were a zerro.
I wipe myself with a leaf, I pull up my pants with some urgency, as if I would like to go, to walk, not to go back to Mariuccia and the children.
And I walk, in fact. I walk with rubber slippers on pine needles, I walk down the valleys and up the mounds, I touch the resinous barks, I listen to the seagulls screaming beyond the umbrellas, in the patches of sky. The sea, beyond, breathes brackish.
I go down and up, with my pumpkin of a head empty of thoughts.
I hear that they are calling me, that they have stopped kicking the ball.
"I'll be there in a minute, I'll play football with you, my little ones."

***

Who knows how long they must have looked for me? But then, somehow, they will have made, Mariuccia is a strong woman.
One here is well and doesn't need anything
Do trees need anything?