This story I wrote in New York in May 2004. I often went out alone while Jan was at work. Then came Sigrid also stay with us for two weeks and it was beautiful, you and I together to make the tourists. One day I started writing this story and I was so taken to sort out the tangle of ideas tumbling in my head that my mind was living moments of ubiquity: he enjoyed being together with my children attended their speeches and at the same time was set to build a continuation of the narrative. Sometimes I felt like a zombie. Walk, take the subway, talk to them.
living at the same time another life. I was carrying paper and pen and every so often I stopped to write down. When I finished this story I was back to 100%.
Pino also had a pen and paper always at hand, it often happened that night turning on the light near the bed to lay down an idea for the book he was writing. I have a current thought: "Too bad that could not Pine to read my stories, who knows what he would have said, he would like them? "
Here is my story New York.
Planned Coincidence
I leave the subway at 125th Street, follow the crowd up the stairs and find myself on the street, my legs felt by more than five hours spent wandering the city center have still want to stop. 'S still early, the weather is crisp and the fact that Jan returned late from work tonight I decided to follow another route to get home. I never tire of looking at the architecture of the buildings, look at all the details. Even the people in this part of the city is predominantly African-American, caught my attention. Arrived at the beautiful Morningside Park, green and nice, take a side. Here too the buildings are brown as the street that we see from the windows of the house of Jan. Of the scales brown with black railings leading to the entrance. Sometimes the windows are rounded. Beautiful trees brighten up the wide sidewalks. On the stairs, sitting on the steps, people chatting and enjoying the fresh air.
Suddenly I stop. I remain stunned. I'll be damned! In New York I have seen many dogs, but there on the wall is the first cat I see in this city and is a copy of our cat, who died ten years ago in Rome. I go over excited, so is she, the black and white spots scattered on the fur at the same way. Cats whites and blacks I have seen plenty of them, but never the same one as such a Poesjemauw. Our eyes are fixed, she bangs them gently in greeting, it raises its head and look for my hands to be caressed. Do not get enough. Hear my words in Italian and Dutch as I used to speak to Poesjemauw. She puts her paws against my chest and pressed a moment his cold wet nose against my cheek, I give her a peck on the forehead. A voice awakens us from loving duet: "I see you have made friends."
From the narrow path leading from the garden behind the house to the street is a young lady. We smiled and said hello to the surprise of view because we know each other. The first time we met at the supermarket in the neighborhood, our hands stretched out at the same time take on a bottom shelf with a bag of dried yellow peas and we had to laugh. From that day we say goodbye when we meet. I did not know who lived here. He says: "Pussycat, never come here to sit on the side of the road, is always at home or in the garden and never gives a lot of confidence to people who do not know." I want to talk about the similarity with the cat we had years ago in Rome. Her with a big smile on her beautiful ebony face, where there are two large Egyptian eyes, asked me to tell this story in his garden, to be more comfortable. Open the gate and follow her. Pussycat jumps from the wall and we are behind. Great is my surprise to discover that part of the garden is not visible from the street. It's not a big garden, but it's a cozy living room. In the corner there is a delicate ginkgo biloba, a tree that I have a weakness because of the uniquely shaped leaves, there is a rhododendron in full bloom hydrangea and also proudly displaying its white flowers. Then under the window there is a little patch of white and pink tulips. I express my surprise: I did not expect such a garden in the back. You see that you are pleasing to my words of appreciation. I please sit on the chairs side by side at the table that is near the low wall that serves as partition between a house and another. Pussycat, that's going around me with great impatience, immediately jumps on my lap, looking at me in the face and under my hands caressing purrs and rolls. The lady looks smug smile. He says with his voice calm and elegant, as are his ways and his character: "I see Pussycat feels comfortable with her." Is absent for a moment climbing the few steps leading into the house and returns with the drinks. Now the story of Poesjemauw and all the years that has been with us. She in turn says that three years ago chose Pussycat amid a litter of kittens, or better than his children have chosen this black and white kitten. Specifies that the mother had a cat from Pussycat Europe.
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