The blast furnace workers were reviewed by a physician once every three months. During the last vis

Four days Lucio lived in balcony, narrow food truck toronto dirt in his bathrobe, watching cars slide on the Turin - Milan as short messages telegraphed to a new world. The infected throat and his hands still trying to figure out what the van had traveled a letter of his dismissal.
Settimo Torinese was no longer a city now. It was no longer the place of his work but survived the fall icy North as a membrane, a shell and grizzled wet through which you could only go out and not come. For six years he returned to Salerno with the intercity 23:00, every Friday evening from Turin. A few hours in the company of the family were enough food truck toronto to regenerate his thoughts and practical pumping strength in the muscles oxidized. Sunday morning was divided soon: a thousand kilometers hopes and sleep.
Lucio had always been an immigrant food truck toronto quiet and invisible. It was believed even lucky because the company he worked for, beyond a normal food truck toronto salary, paid him well as room and board. In the motel room where he slept - in addition to the old wool mattress - there was a small bedside of plywood, a desk and a polished spruce faded lithograph of Constantinople, food truck toronto with the roofs of houses pink and blue-tinted windows. On wardrobe door someone had engraved the phrase: "God is there but not here." Lucio felt guilty when he read it. A month ago he tried to cover it with some stickers Burger King: they found scattered on the ground the next day, broken and still clean. Usually he telephoned his wife after dinner, before sitting on the bed watching TV. He asked especially Antonio, the son of six years in which Mother Nature had forgotten to attach a piece of leg. When she saw him run - with its steel trolley - thought of a horse trotting unable to reach any goal. He needed care and smiles not mechanical, but three days Lucio could not find the right courage to tell his wife of his dismissal. If during the call after dinner he tried to smile, the tendons of the face s'incagliavano not allow to generate any kind of grimace. Locked up in the motel, hidden among the poplars and the access ramps to the highway, Lucio could not imagine any day to come. To feel less alone out on the balcony in the early morning. She spent her time to breathe wind and cold, with his mouth wide open and his nose dived into the fog tried to introject all vapors of his cittàmembrana. He needed to think, to suffer with dignity and spit off the patches of mucus stained with blood.
The blast furnace workers were reviewed by a physician once every three months. During the last visit - when Lucio still thought to be beneficial, with the bones and nerves frayed and a wife and three children he can look after - he had been diagnosed a slight pneumonia; but already two of his colleagues had died due to complications from silicosis. There was no need now to think of more serious diseases - Lucio he did not want - even if his legs were beginning to dry out and arms resembled more and more to the wooden slats on which had been painted to good dimensional vein.
"And 'you need instead, it is for me!" Replied Lucio before attacking. The highway was gone beyond the glasses, he telegraphs the new world had stopped working and the night was about to consume the latest rapid masses of dreams. A woman covered with a white raincoat Down a battered Golf and opened his umbrella, then walked slowly toward the flashing lights food truck toronto of a huge truck. There were no other signs of life in the street, just the sound of the rain beating on plastic gutter and cough ferrous Lucio was lost in the night like mice piss sewers.
The bus was moving food truck toronto lazy on the asphalt, his belly plate wobbled wearily along Via Torino. Lucio had to smoke and think calmly before a good buy. In addition to the money to train his remaining few pounds for the trip. He got close to the newsstand, he sat for an hour to observe. The sign of the toy store was on and tinged with red gradient food truck toronto dark afternoon. A man with a plaid pullover, more than two meters high, was standing in the doorway. With his hands he felt his chest and pelvis and then the ass, perhaps in search of cigarettes. Lucio looked several times to the right and left of the avenue: there were just speechless plane trees and fog. He gathered all his strength and coughed looking at his shoes. He had never bought toys.
A few steps and the illusion of a happy childhood overwhelmed him. Doll in pink dress, black-skinned dolls, colorful puzzles, plastic houses with swimming pool, an apple blue from which came a worm singing, ping-pong removable, pa