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ANTROPOECCENTRICO
... CHAPTER 12 ...

So the clergyman wife convinced herself that the red-eyed man couldn’t have been but the Chief. And this observation made her very proud. It made her so proud that she felt flattered (flattered not as much by the observation as by the Chief’s persistence). Because, for sure, that wandering towards her (having escaped death by God’s hand) must mean (actually, was) a desperate attempt at seduction.
The clergyman’s wife evaluated all previous circumstances. And her heart melted at the thought of that bewitched man’s stubbornness. And together with her heart, her braids melted, her thongs (which stretched the weave until it unraveled) and every other supporting elastic.
She took the man by the hand, she stroked him, she pushed him (the man only asked for a modicum of understanding). The clergyman’s wife promised it to him with the same voice that the day before had yelled for help (it must be the Chief, the man who sat below her). She said she had a remedy for his eyes: the man thanked her. She invited him to go with her into the train car: the man followed her. She dragged him to the repentance compartment (a sort of confessional covered in gray fabric, where voices were imprisoned by the confidential nature of sins). She laid him down like a wounded child. She sang him a lullaby to make him sleep.

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© 1998 Gianni Actis Barone