[...] We went down the steep concrete stairs and under the faint moonlight, near the machine, Crumley looked at me. "What's that attitude of wild dog?"
"I'm affiliated with a church."
"Go, for the love of Jesus"
I went, in a fever.
"Where are we going?"
"At the Cathedral of St. Vibiana."
"Santa column!" Crumley
azionò the ignition.
"No" decided "not withstand another face to face.
Let's go home, James, take a shower, three beers and a nice sleep.
Constance We will dawn." We passed
Callahan slowly and Ortega. Crumley seemed almost happy.
Before the shower, beer and glued sleep seven or eight pages of newspaper
head on the wall in the bed, so you can watch if I woke up at night
and I went in search of solutions.
names, photographs, titles, big and small kept for some mysterious reason or not at all mysterious. Crumley
behind me snorted.
"Shit! Are you going to sleep with a collection of news that they were dead even have been published?"
"At dawn, perhaps, will fall from the wall and slipped under my eyes and will remain glued to the adhesive of my creative brain."
"creative sticker! Japanese bushido and ! Tori Americans! After separating from the wall will propagate those things inside of you? "
" Why not? If you do not confiscated anything, do not put anything out. "
" Wait to send it down. "Crumley drank.
" Go to bed and wake up with celebrities as innocent as before, eh? "
He nodded to the photos, names, Screw the printed newspapers.
"Constance would be there, somewhere?"
"Hidden."
"Go get a shower, do I watch the obituaries. If someone moves, I cry.
What do you think of a margarita for a good night? "
" I did not think you would have asked more. "
From [...] "Constance against all", by Ray Bradbury, Ed Mondadori Strade Blu, 2003, pp. 60-61.
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