The Polpetton Hash - Chapter 4

But that was to be another story. Mauro recovered dazed by those disturbing memories to resume his investigation with experienced gait in direction of Porno Eden, as his old sexologist Rhoda Pellizzi had taught him how to anagram the nearby town of Pordenone, where he would satisfy both the pleasures of his palate and his flesh… He could already see himself the following day on the golf course, recovering from a hard night’s work.

He managed to get a great piece of pussy in tow, long hair and thighs just as he liked, and after a refined dinner at Noncello’s, in order to socialize he didn’t find anything better than going to the movies. The trilogy of “Star Wars” was showing and Mauro saw it for the fifteenth time. While buying the tickets at the box office, he found in his pocket that letter slowly deleting itself. He checked it out: nearly half of it already disappeared. He folded it with care and put it in his wallet. Out of the theatre the fog wrapped Pordenone. Keeping her by arm he headed towards Villa Ottoboni, but passing by the film playbill he noticed that words, words again, were playing with him and the scorned word “Wars” slipped away from the playbill, slowly. Astonished and a bit frightened, Mauro followed it and caught it crawling on the ground until hidding behind the corner of a building. How much he hated that word! It made him feel sick… and in the fog a memory materialized.

Freedom, in the features of an old activist, was sweetly approaching him bare-footed on the grass, which was giving birth to small blue flowers at every step. And he was the grass. Every step she took her long hair panted fondling the air. And he was the air. In her glance she had galaxies, stars and worlds with no flags, and in her smile a calm harbour port, dream of every sailor, where to cast the anchor and stay forever. She was beautiful and he loved her. But then, right behind her, with self-confident gait a man in a dazzling full uniform caught her up. In his eyes he had all the markets in the world, and in the mouth the hurricanes and storms of all the seas. With kind manners he took her by the elbow and pushed her towards the building’s corner, where the hated word was laying a snare. Mauro jumped to try and stop them, but couldn’t move. He screamed, but couldn’t overcome the wall of silence, he felt powerless and hopeless.
Freedom was turning the corner of the building, the last thing he saw was her peevish gesture in attempting to free herself by his grip, and then… Mauro’s eyes burst. He quivered, a bitter mucus made of anger and grudge filled his mouth, he spat the poison that slithered on the ground. He hadn’t stopped spitting that filth since that day long time before, when his eyes burst… and his heart as well. That great beautiful piece of pussy thought that he was sick, and left him disgusted on the hotel’s steps.

“Porno Eden, un cazzo” – hissed Mauro – “another blank night! Fuck with anti-militarism”