The Guide.Pdf
The Meadows at nightfall sparkle with fireflies across the hills. They pulsate like thousands of flickering lighthouses. I've gone without a firefly for ten years, now, a field full of them. Somewhere above us, a Mediterranean owl swooshes, emitting cadenced hoots like a Das Boot sonar. After the sun vanishes, stone floors breathe back Its heat. Wine, cigarettes, simple food. L'ombra della sera, evening shadow, a stretched outline of a figurine of a boy, a human silhouette. His arms tightly aligned with the body, two conspicuous details: his face and genitals, an elongated silhouette, even more so than El Greco's. Fields of grass on the top of Volterra, an Etruscan forum obliterated supposedly only by members of the House of Medici, today a park: a place for fun and games of abundant youth. Olive-skinned, slender young men with bare torsos, underwear sneaking out of their shorts constrained by belts, girls in denim and bikini tops splashing around with water, playing ball, pushing and shoving, embracing, kissing, being young, carnal and passionate, they scream, shout and squeal, male hands rest on feminine hips, girls place their hands on the boys' lean hard chests in a gesture that fuses attraction and resistance. Long hair. The girl leans forward for the boy to pour cold water on this hair, the girl whinnies like a foal, thrusts her body upright setting the whole wet black mane flying towards her back, drops of water on the skin they share, dark and lustrous in the heat, the girl laughs and the boy with shaven temples traces the comer of her lips, the girl licks his finger.
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