Saint Spirit Read online

nient'altro that to wait, and at the end he allowed to go. Left half open the eyes, chained in that forced immobility and his/her anger him volatilizzò for some instants, stamping his irony of an almost satisfied smile on the face.

  You/he/she had been really him to start everything, to teach her and to sharpen his/her ways to be and the expedient to do yes that its existence was the assembled of a crowd of grapevine. He/she clearly remembered still all, as if same happening really at that time, in front of his/her eyes.

  The evening after the intoxicated night of their first meeting he was free from his/her working turn and you/he/she could devote without limits to experiment his/her spiritual trips. You/he/she had remained notably fascinated by the extravagance and by the talent of the enchanting countess. To surprise him/it on this Earth had become what a great deal arduous, but straight to be senseless from an emotion, as you/he/she had happened with her, it exquisitely had an unique taste. While it was considering to the peculiar adventure happened him, you/he/she had drawn on the floor of the only room that composed his/her apartment the pentacolo that would have protected him during his/her experience in astral.

  To the return from the weary spiritual trip, Saint collapsed on the floor of its room.

  It was with the face glued on the icy floor for endless minutes before succeeding in reopening the eyes and to repurchase the awareness to have returned in the disorder of his/her apartment. He wanted us another handful of minutes to become himself/herself/themselves account that was not alone. In front of him, comfortably session on a chair, adorned of an extremely elegant black suit, the crossed legs and with a half expression among the I dismay and female curiosity there was typically the countess Monteghini. He/she wore around the neck a boa of feathers of ostrich that made her/it even more seductive than it was not already. Did thing do us to his/her house that insane dame that had still discovered long live in its funeral thalamus? It still blushed remembering the immense embarrassment that enveloped him/it crossing him/it look of her, also being him the landlord and the woman in matter a guest, in that circumstance, indesiderata. It was her to break the silence.

  "Oh my God, doesn't know what can have happened you, but I believe really has been something sensational! You seemed dead, your body seemed to have transformed in a rigid impassive statue. You have remained so for about two hours and then, of sudden, you have revived collapsing on the floor, as if a giant had grinded you. What does everything this mean?"

  Saint was absolutely incredulous, you/he/she would have wanted to get angry, to ask to that woman as was allowed to enter his/her house and above all as he/she knew who was, but he/she succeeded only in asking her:

  "That meaning has here your arrival?"

  "I am here because I and you should unite us, to live together, to discover qual is the limit over which we can inhale."

  Saint was everything except a rational person. He/she lived of intuitions, feelings and of energetic fields that surrounded him/it, but to feel those madwomen be told words a person that it belonged to the real world, they made him/it smile of amazement.

  "What you are telling me? A pair of passages have lost. I don't know you who both, I don't know how you can think a thing of the kind founding yourself on a simple ordinary extra event that has united us."

  Her eyes withdrew him.

  "No, not to believe ch'io both a fool a superficial animal that drags him without soul on this Earth. I won't perhaps perceive as you what fluctuates around us, but I has full awareness of the bridge that is created between me and you. A bridge, yes, invisible, but that more whatever reality bond is worth among human beings of this dimension. I have always lived my Spirit in loneliness, doubting even sometimes that pits only one imagination of mine, one perverse neurotic inclination of mine, but I have kept on being conscious of those doors inside of me that they opened on the endless one. Then, however, for the first time you/he/she is happened me not to be alone to live my parallel world with the certain presence of another being. This being you were really you and you know very well that you cannot deny him/it."

  "Ok, has had the test that the spiritual world is not one paranoia of yours, it is real. Do you also know that you/he/she can be come into contact with another Spirit, but this is not some one base for which to reach the conclusion that our lives owe parallel proceder, doesn't find?"

  "It is all right, Black signor, will demote then of some footstep allowing to invite you to me to supper from me evening tomorrow. My driver will come to take you and. I beg you to accept since now this small my arrogance that binds part of your time to my person. Approved?"

  Saint observed that stupendous tigress that scrutinized him/it starving. You desired him/it and he tried the same attraction, but you/he/she would never have abdicated his/her world, to his/her habits to undertake a relationship, also scheming as you/he/she would have been theirs.

  "A supper! To accept your invitation seems me the least one that can do, considering that our first meeting has happened jumping whatever type of preliminary."

  Saint perfectly remembered still the odors and the colors of that evening, trail to light of candle with Dafne, in its idyllic villa Monteghini. You/they immediately were passed to the firm ground without vain words of circumstance. He had explained her his/her world, his/her trips, what succeeded in doing with the corpses and her, anxious and fidgety to see that spiritual world that waved her in every centimeter of skin to open in front of his/her eyes, he/she greedily drank every word of Saint and, in turn it disclosed him all of his/her antecedent existence to their meeting. Dafne was an apprehensions and adamant fair. He saw to bloom through her eyes the obstinacy and the voluptuousness that characterized her/it in toto. You/he/she would have been able to make anything, if only you/he/she had been given you of it the possibility. That same night, after the supper, in the alcove of the countess were sheltered for freeing their desires and their instincts, to give voice to the subject, that unfortunately or fortunately it coexisted also together with the Spirit. Among purple sheets, devouring the embraces, perpetually crossing the skin with the unquenched mouths, every candid breath of the soul that reboiled through their incandescent meat that entwined and it tormented breathing, they united him. To caress him and to grind together him, raggiunger a limit to rout him/it, to grant him over, to undress some nudity, to be profaned in every angle of the body, of the soul, from the words, from the blood and from the ardent looks of the excess. Possession his/her own total intimacy to the derision and to be at the same time of it an enjoying spectator, the victim and the executioner. The love and the hate. Be beloved and fottuti together! The fiercest vulgarity served to the nuptial banquet of the god of the love. Eros, that sweeps yourself wild!

  You stipulated that night their pact, their union. Being accomplices, to plot behind the existence to steal her more possible life. From that night Saint didn't go more away from that sumptuous abode.

 

  Still immobilized by the powerful drug administered him by the countess, the occultist you/he/she could not do anything else other than to keep on making to be cradled by the memoirs regressing up to the time lived before knowing Dafne, that then understood the large majority of his/her life. Particularly, in the last shine of his/her existence shutters Dafne had voluntarily decided to abandon the real existence to throw headfirst him in that world of images and intuitions that you/they belonged to the other dimension. What then it didn't have really some sense for him to call "real" the world in which the human beings have gotten used to live. This ch'egli lived beyond the canonical time it was well more truth and strong than you/he/she had ever found on the planet that fed its body. As far as possible, its asceticism toward the immanent things had brought him in a paradoxical limbo. When it was awake, it was as if it faced a forced nightmare and, whatever duty had to hurry, it treated her/it as an absolute necessity, a brick for that invisible bridge that every time would have allowed then him to travel, to detach from the ground to become an everything in the
universe.

  You/he/she had become contrarily a guilty man.

  If the offender usually lives bossily the awake life, the night instead, in the moments in which the rational part lowers the watch to get ready to the sleep, the subconscious it makes to resurface its dark sides rendered explicit by groundless anxieties and disturbances that accordingly they will mine the phase of the sleep with the deadliest nightmares. This way Saint was a guilty Spirit to possess a body. During the meditative phase it was shiny and full, while during the vigil his/her subconscious, or perhaps for absurd we should coin the neologism "sopraconscio", it moved the threads of his/her appointments and the obligations that were up to him as living being of this world, forcing his/her soul to crawl among the lowness of the ephemeral things.

  Then the era of Dafne came, the middle queen. Colei able to mix the substances and the laws of any world with his/her keenness and his/her pragmatism. You changed the ordinary reality departing from the mere aesthetics of the objects, of the you furnish, of the landscapes that acted from stage for them two, sublime and undisputed protagonists, up to engage imaginary actors in meat and bones, that recited