Nicola Rocca - Two Drops Of Water

NICOLA ROCCA

TWO DROPS OF WATER

ENNEERRE

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- Nicola Rocca ‘Pagina Autore’

- Nicola Rocca

enneerreautore@outlook.it

Cover art © Alberto Motta

Cover design © Nicola Rocca and Alberto Motta

Translated by Andrew Fanko

Publisher: Tektime - www.traduzionelibri.it

Any reference to real people or events is purely coincidental.

Literary and artistic property reserved.

All rights reserved.

2016

Summary

PROLOGUE PROLOGUE The room is in semi-darkness, the pitch black alleviated only by the dirty yellow light of a street lamp filtering through the window. Aldo Martelli stares up at the ceiling. It's an ordeal he has endured for years now - in and out of hospital. No particular illness, but he's ninety years old, and there's no cure for old age; it comes for us all, followed sooner or later by its trusty friend, Death. His throat seems to be closing up, every breath a laborious wheeze. All he needs to do is reach out and press his emergency button. A nurse would come running and fit his oxygen mask. Aldo knows there is little point; it would just delay his last breath for a few more hours. He may as well let himself drift off into that deepest of sleeps that he knows so well. A sleep that has been his livelihood for seventy years. Martelli Funeral Directors. Two shop windows and a preparation room. Thinking about it still brings a smile to his face. So much time has passed. It seems like only yesterday, but now his entire life has flown by. The weight pressing down on his lungs increases. Aldo may never have experienced his own death, but it is all too familiar to him. He can sense it. Now that his time has come, he's not afraid. Life has been kind; he can have no complaints. He has never lacked for money or affection. His thoughts turn to Mina, whom he married before either of them had even turned twenty. Gradually, images of their children come into his mind. Then the grandchildren. Their faces seem so real he can’t help but smile. Such a beautiful family. As his vision begins to blur from a lack of oxygen, another memory pops into his head. He thinks of the little white coffin and the secret he has kept for over thirty years. It was so long ago now, but he can remember it as if it were yesterday. He still can’t explain why he did it. Could have been greed; could have been a million and one other things. He deceived an entire town. He opens his mouth wide in an attempt to steal one final breath, and his eyes relax and fall open. Just a split second more of suffering, and the secret would go with him to his grave.

FEBRUARY 2016 FEBRUARY 2016 A mia volta mi fido del mondo non ti dico le botte che prendo Non c'è modo di starsene fuori da ciò che lo rende tremendo e stupendo… ( La linea sottile [The Fine Line] - Luciano Ligabue)

THE DEPARTURE THE DEPARTURE La canzone rimasta nel vento le sorprese che fa il firmamento ed i primi che mangiano tutto e gli ultimi pagano tutto quel conto… ( La linea sottile , or The Fine Line - Luciano Ligabue)

NOVEMBER 2016 Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

MANY YEARS EARLIER Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

THE BITTER TRUTH Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

EIGHT MONTHS PREGNANT Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

EPILOGUE Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

For Sandra and Davide,

who achieved their

greatest dream.

For all those who,

like me,

exist in limbo,

straddling the finest

of fine lines that separates

two different worlds.

N.R.

"You will learn, to your cost,

that on life's great journey

you will encounter many masks, but few faces."

(Luigi Pirandello – One, No One and One Hundred Thousand)

TWO DROPS OF WATER

The room is in semi-darkness,

the pitch black alleviated only by the dirty yellow light of a street lamp filtering through the window.

Aldo Martelli stares up at the ceiling.

It's an ordeal he has endured for years now - in and out of hospital. No particular illness, but he's ninety years old, and there's no cure for old age; it comes for us all, followed sooner or later by its trusty friend, Death.

His throat seems to be closing up, every breath a laborious wheeze.

All he needs to do is reach out and press his emergency button. A nurse would come running and fit his oxygen mask.

Aldo knows there is little point; it would just delay his last breath for a few more hours. He may as well let himself drift off into that deepest of sleeps that he knows so well. A sleep that has been his livelihood for seventy years.