Unexpectedly came the north wind and it's all a bustle. It seems that things are crazy. The windows, antennae, plastic bags. Botti sudden, pop, dried, unexpected flourishes. All this inanimate inertia that suddenly comes to life and shoots here and there, without rules and directions. Who is she directs the north. The crazy wind and ice that comes from somewhere. But what is his plan, nobody knows. You walk and you, pam!, You spring the sudden blows that even Bud Spencer. Fa-boo and hiss the roof cracks under doors, like a dragon that comedy is coming and never lands. Flaps its wings and lifts off, create chaos and makes you insane, reels and bags of grain co-ops, and after a while, is already a little more there, to abuse a poor newspaper Squaderno everything. I look north I like to hear it from indoors or inside the bed at night, when the whole house giggles and grins, but in the middle trovarmici no, because I think we can take away the thoughts, ideas, those few that I have. Instead the dogs of the north do not give a damn. Around the world upside down and have them continue undeterred to rooting on the ground with their noses funny. And you tell him hurry diomadonna force that falls on his head a poplar, and they get up and look at that face staring for a moment as if to say Embee? and then again down to sniffing the roots. Perhaps because the dogs are to their already somewhat sirocco and the north wind makes a whisker, in fact, that mustaches dogs even have them there, those are cats, when in fact it is north of cats do not see around. And to me either.
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