Dangerous Kitchen Worksheets

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I hated rainy days. Or rather, I always hated to go around when it rains. And all this without an apparent valid reason. Perhaps because I am a very impulsive type, and when it rains there seems to be something that forces you to pause and reflect. What is most distressing is the silence that seems to wrap around heavy and boring and annoying form of constant rain falling ...

I still remember that night. I was returning from a party and in total darkness, but still in the overturned ears the noise of collegiate party and revelry in which a moment before I plunged, I was sprawled on the couch. In one hand I held a glass of beer, a cigarette in the other off. I stood motionless, and only the constant and monotonous chime clock pendulum hanging on a wall - I could feel the presence although I could not see it - took me back to the real world.

began to rain. I said nothing and tried to remain indifferent, but I was visibly upset. A few minutes later the phone rang. It was my ex-wife asked me to join him in the small hospital because he was sick and could not understand cos'avesse. I did not see either four years from the birth of a child. I started to get out but I stopped at the door: it was raining! And then, probably was not anything serious ... I went back to my comfortable couch.

The rain suddenly increased in intensity and even if only for a moment I thought I heard a voice calling me. Initially there but then I noticed, due to its insistence, I went to the window and looked in the garden. I saw a shadow very small, almost child, who moved his arm, pointing a greeting. I started to tell her to take shelter, that she would take a pretty cold, but my voice came out choked It was my daughter, Michal! I ran to the door and tried to open it, but despite all the 'vehemence that it took me I could not: she was there, still healthy despite the rain and a voice so sweet but so sad, they said,

" Come on Dad. I need you. Come ... "

seemed begging.

And I could not open the damn door!

"Come on Dad. I need you ... "over and over again! The damn door would not open!

At one point he said:

"I love you anyway ... I know you tried ..." disappeared ...

The door opened, the rain came down in intensity and the sky cleared a bit, 'and I, I was in the midst of the garden with her face turned upward, I began to cry.

The phone rang but I did not need to answer it, I knew it all: the "still" made me understand many things.

"Me too ..." I said softly, with tears, mixed with bitterness never felt before, I sailed face.

"Me too ..."

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