Saint Spirit by Quelli di ZEd
so much. He/she quickly answered.
"Insane? My enchanting dame, has illuminated me with your vicissitudes, I can now afford to say that your projects won't absolutely be stopped by my person. Considering that this your extravagance entangles extremely me, I want to participate you with the whole ardor. Before, however, I want to disclose you a secret that will make you understand better the magic transformation of a body that passes under to my cares. The treatment, as superficially you/he/she can seem, it is not imputable not at all to one some skill in to treat a body a face. This ability of mine to extract the sublime from an inanimate body works to a deeper height of the sphere of the subject. Just before to have you alarm clock among my braccias, I have communicated with your unconscious and to that point I have realized the anomaly that concerned around your extended body there, apparently lifeless. You must know that the soul of a dead individual trasumana from the dead body."
Her eyes still stared at him/it incredulous although her, in his/her cuor, he/she believed in every single word that was revealed him by that magic man. Its mouth opened genuine and spontaneous.
"Trasumana?"
"Yes" the masculine steadiness of the voice of Saint quickly responded "trasumana is a term used by the occultists to refer to that determined transformation that separates the subject of the man that belongs to the mineral world from the Spirit that curtains toward the spiritual dimension. We could also say that the Spirit transudes from the body, it evaporates, and even though you cross an enormous cataclysm that gives him the impression to live a nightmare without end, he/she still succeeds in communicating the emotions and the thoughts, convinced to keep on conducting his/her own existence in the terrestrial condition. I accompany upward simply this fragile Spirit, the free one fondly from all the doubts that torment him/it, that hold him/it tied up to the body. It in change allows me in gift the features of a body that you/he/she has already entered harmony with his/her new condition of simple inorganic subject and he doesn't contract more to reject the advent of his/her breakup; this way it will be extremely malleable and easily mouldable. Having emptied him/it from all the controversies and the attrition that expand as soon as him in every fabric to arrive some death that dethrones the life, this body he will decompose very more quickly, and the odor of the putrefaction won't reach the usual nauseating levels characteristic of this chemical trial. This is my secret. I have explained you a lot to great lines, omitting an infinity of essential things to understand more some this matter, but it is really impossible to be able to expound everything the to know that it wanders around the hidden one in an only night, and this is not certain the most suitable center to begin such a vast lucubration on the formalities of the existence."
Dafne had the face dark and warm tears they irrigated the bed of the river that licked up the solid necks of his/her cheeks.
"Him, my husband. its soul has suffered? An end cos didn't deserve him, nobody would deserve her/it.
Saint, imperturbable, it pronounced hard words, how much sincere and loyal.
"Madonna, the death of each of us is necessary to make to evolve his/her own Spirit and for lasciar space on the Earth to the other souls that the subject must experiment. The human beings must understand that pain is essential, it is the most valid utensil of God to interact with its mysterious children of the Earth. Baudelaire, from "The artificial heavens" to such respect it said: "The death, that don't consult on our projects and to which cannot ask the consent, the death that allows us to dream happiness and fame and doesn't tell us neither yes neither no, brusquely goes out from the trap and with a hit of wing sweeps away our plans, our dreams and the ideal architectures where held sheltered, in thought, the glory of our last days!""
The man drew near to the woman and tightened her/it to itself. That embrace enacted the truth of their breath, of their worries and of their emotions, it still decreed their existence of living beings, still able to experiment the drunkenness of the subject.
"Are alive!it " told the sudden Saint "you are still able everything and above all you still owe everything to your thirst of life. Pain is a shake that serves to it stuffed to face with great vigor the rest of the life that we remain. As I have already had the opportunity to ascertain, this philosophy of thought you have already married her in toto, therefore it forgives my rudeness, but the time tightens and if you want that yours ends eccentric plan, I exhort you to now swallow some that magic potion that turned you into the beautiful dormant ch'eri poc'anzi, so that I can turn into the immortal queen that you have always desired to be to the presence of your funeral."
Dafne immediately shook him of back that anguish throwing her/it in meal to his/her covetous courage to experiment the existence. In that same instant he/she remembered him the thoughtful indications of his/her doctor. He it sincerely held to his/her beautiful countess. It had him in fact admonished on the fact that the potion that would have assumed would be been able not to be enough effective for that whole time. Of however he ignored the exact dose to assume for that weary of established time and, fearing to mistake prescribing her a sovradosaggio that would have killed her, you/he/she had preferred to be parsimonious in to deliver her that magic quantity. Dafne now remembered that, if you/he/she woke up in the heart of the night in the room of morgue, the doctor had exhorted her not to get scared and to look for in his/her beautiful head of hair the rest of the content of the vial that would have her ridonato the irresponsibility. It inserted the hands among the long smooth hair that composed his/her flowing helmet of battle of divine nymph of the high society and it extracted the vial smiling.
"It is all right, my meddler sculptor, among few instants I will be dead again. I will stay here, naked, to your mercy, can treat him of a violent overbearance or of a refined person imbellettatura. Now they are in your hands. Even you will be then who knows you in mine."
This way saying drank in a sip that little liquid of the vial and he/she remained to stare at him/it until everything it didn't become vacuous, smoky, then nothing.
VI
When the driver, the doctor and the butler arrived in the courtyard of the morgue, the mysterious worker of the night was already dispersed. It was day, the presence of a stately round sun in that clear blue sky spiazzava some, being by now late October. To make capolino to the door of entry there were the usual four rough individuals already met on the occasion of the death of Charles Monteghini, that you/they smoked and meanwhile they discussed respect a futile soccer matter with the obvious curses that these disquisitions of low lever. The doctor, after a fast regard of routine, it was literally dashed with his/her succession inside the ardent room. Few second to get used the sight to the faint light and their eyes they enchanted him on the bedside of the countess Dafne, for then to cross their looks and to respectively read each in the eyes of the others the same amazement.
It was very beautiful. To look for other adjectives seemed superfluous. When something contains the absolute superlative of the beauty, other cannot be added, otherwise he would risk to make to lower the attention on the most consistent and ineluctable adjective of that case: very beautiful! You/he/she was dressed as Osiride with the classical white tunic used by the Egyptian noblewomen that it bandaged her the attractive sinuous body. You/he/she would have been able to break the breath to whatever person, man or woman that it was. He/she wore the typical ancient jewels that a queen of that period would have worn. They were those that the butler had delivered to Saint for the vestizione of the body but the way according to which were systematized with the purpose to adorn the beautiful Dafne, you/he/she was incredibly perfect. That gold and those stones, so you position, able you/they would have been to play with any type of light to valorize even the angles of more beauty hidden of that body, of that face. that face was pious youth, of an incalculable youth, yet they appeared millennial those marmoreal lines of the face, inviolable, eternal. And that magnificent head of hair shiny black? It seemed it had microscopic light bulbs on all of his/her surface, dazzli
ng the deadly communes. That woman represented the attraction and they made him account everybody that each of them would have wanted to possess her/it so, immovable, in that same instant. The butler broke that diabolic magnetism beginning with almost trembling voice.
"Everything is ready in the villa, by now the guests should have fill the whole antisala. I believe you totally agree with me in to deliver ourselves the countess."
The other ones nodded with the alone expression of the face, still benumbed by the enchantment.
Joints near the imperious entry of the villa, were perceived already the teams of automobiles of luxury of those people that would be never missed, for any reason to the world, to the most tragic event and more cool than the year, the funeral of the famous one and discussed widow Monteghini, dead suicidal shortly after two months from the tragic accident that marked the end of his/her/their husband. The principal room was prepared to ardent room with changing floral crowns from the rarest exotic flowers and with an esoteric admixture of essences that he/she caressed the air harmonically making her/it mysticism. Dafne had abandoned in a shining
"Insane? My enchanting dame, has illuminated me with your vicissitudes, I can now afford to say that your projects won't absolutely be stopped by my person. Considering that this your extravagance entangles extremely me, I want to participate you with the whole ardor. Before, however, I want to disclose you a secret that will make you understand better the magic transformation of a body that passes under to my cares. The treatment, as superficially you/he/she can seem, it is not imputable not at all to one some skill in to treat a body a face. This ability of mine to extract the sublime from an inanimate body works to a deeper height of the sphere of the subject. Just before to have you alarm clock among my braccias, I have communicated with your unconscious and to that point I have realized the anomaly that concerned around your extended body there, apparently lifeless. You must know that the soul of a dead individual trasumana from the dead body."
Her eyes still stared at him/it incredulous although her, in his/her cuor, he/she believed in every single word that was revealed him by that magic man. Its mouth opened genuine and spontaneous.
"Trasumana?"
"Yes" the masculine steadiness of the voice of Saint quickly responded "trasumana is a term used by the occultists to refer to that determined transformation that separates the subject of the man that belongs to the mineral world from the Spirit that curtains toward the spiritual dimension. We could also say that the Spirit transudes from the body, it evaporates, and even though you cross an enormous cataclysm that gives him the impression to live a nightmare without end, he/she still succeeds in communicating the emotions and the thoughts, convinced to keep on conducting his/her own existence in the terrestrial condition. I accompany upward simply this fragile Spirit, the free one fondly from all the doubts that torment him/it, that hold him/it tied up to the body. It in change allows me in gift the features of a body that you/he/she has already entered harmony with his/her new condition of simple inorganic subject and he doesn't contract more to reject the advent of his/her breakup; this way it will be extremely malleable and easily mouldable. Having emptied him/it from all the controversies and the attrition that expand as soon as him in every fabric to arrive some death that dethrones the life, this body he will decompose very more quickly, and the odor of the putrefaction won't reach the usual nauseating levels characteristic of this chemical trial. This is my secret. I have explained you a lot to great lines, omitting an infinity of essential things to understand more some this matter, but it is really impossible to be able to expound everything the to know that it wanders around the hidden one in an only night, and this is not certain the most suitable center to begin such a vast lucubration on the formalities of the existence."
Dafne had the face dark and warm tears they irrigated the bed of the river that licked up the solid necks of his/her cheeks.
"Him, my husband. its soul has suffered? An end cos didn't deserve him, nobody would deserve her/it.
Saint, imperturbable, it pronounced hard words, how much sincere and loyal.
"Madonna, the death of each of us is necessary to make to evolve his/her own Spirit and for lasciar space on the Earth to the other souls that the subject must experiment. The human beings must understand that pain is essential, it is the most valid utensil of God to interact with its mysterious children of the Earth. Baudelaire, from "The artificial heavens" to such respect it said: "The death, that don't consult on our projects and to which cannot ask the consent, the death that allows us to dream happiness and fame and doesn't tell us neither yes neither no, brusquely goes out from the trap and with a hit of wing sweeps away our plans, our dreams and the ideal architectures where held sheltered, in thought, the glory of our last days!""
The man drew near to the woman and tightened her/it to itself. That embrace enacted the truth of their breath, of their worries and of their emotions, it still decreed their existence of living beings, still able to experiment the drunkenness of the subject.
"Are alive!it " told the sudden Saint "you are still able everything and above all you still owe everything to your thirst of life. Pain is a shake that serves to it stuffed to face with great vigor the rest of the life that we remain. As I have already had the opportunity to ascertain, this philosophy of thought you have already married her in toto, therefore it forgives my rudeness, but the time tightens and if you want that yours ends eccentric plan, I exhort you to now swallow some that magic potion that turned you into the beautiful dormant ch'eri poc'anzi, so that I can turn into the immortal queen that you have always desired to be to the presence of your funeral."
Dafne immediately shook him of back that anguish throwing her/it in meal to his/her covetous courage to experiment the existence. In that same instant he/she remembered him the thoughtful indications of his/her doctor. He it sincerely held to his/her beautiful countess. It had him in fact admonished on the fact that the potion that would have assumed would be been able not to be enough effective for that whole time. Of however he ignored the exact dose to assume for that weary of established time and, fearing to mistake prescribing her a sovradosaggio that would have killed her, you/he/she had preferred to be parsimonious in to deliver her that magic quantity. Dafne now remembered that, if you/he/she woke up in the heart of the night in the room of morgue, the doctor had exhorted her not to get scared and to look for in his/her beautiful head of hair the rest of the content of the vial that would have her ridonato the irresponsibility. It inserted the hands among the long smooth hair that composed his/her flowing helmet of battle of divine nymph of the high society and it extracted the vial smiling.
"It is all right, my meddler sculptor, among few instants I will be dead again. I will stay here, naked, to your mercy, can treat him of a violent overbearance or of a refined person imbellettatura. Now they are in your hands. Even you will be then who knows you in mine."
This way saying drank in a sip that little liquid of the vial and he/she remained to stare at him/it until everything it didn't become vacuous, smoky, then nothing.
VI
When the driver, the doctor and the butler arrived in the courtyard of the morgue, the mysterious worker of the night was already dispersed. It was day, the presence of a stately round sun in that clear blue sky spiazzava some, being by now late October. To make capolino to the door of entry there were the usual four rough individuals already met on the occasion of the death of Charles Monteghini, that you/they smoked and meanwhile they discussed respect a futile soccer matter with the obvious curses that these disquisitions of low lever. The doctor, after a fast regard of routine, it was literally dashed with his/her succession inside the ardent room. Few second to get used the sight to the faint light and their eyes they enchanted him on the bedside of the countess Dafne, for then to cross their looks and to respectively read each in the eyes of the others the same amazement.
It was very beautiful. To look for other adjectives seemed superfluous. When something contains the absolute superlative of the beauty, other cannot be added, otherwise he would risk to make to lower the attention on the most consistent and ineluctable adjective of that case: very beautiful! You/he/she was dressed as Osiride with the classical white tunic used by the Egyptian noblewomen that it bandaged her the attractive sinuous body. You/he/she would have been able to break the breath to whatever person, man or woman that it was. He/she wore the typical ancient jewels that a queen of that period would have worn. They were those that the butler had delivered to Saint for the vestizione of the body but the way according to which were systematized with the purpose to adorn the beautiful Dafne, you/he/she was incredibly perfect. That gold and those stones, so you position, able you/they would have been to play with any type of light to valorize even the angles of more beauty hidden of that body, of that face. that face was pious youth, of an incalculable youth, yet they appeared millennial those marmoreal lines of the face, inviolable, eternal. And that magnificent head of hair shiny black? It seemed it had microscopic light bulbs on all of his/her surface, dazzli
"Everything is ready in the villa, by now the guests should have fill the whole antisala. I believe you totally agree with me in to deliver ourselves the countess."
The other ones nodded with the alone expression of the face, still benumbed by the enchantment.
Joints near the imperious entry of the villa, were perceived already the teams of automobiles of luxury of those people that would be never missed, for any reason to the world, to the most tragic event and more cool than the year, the funeral of the famous one and discussed widow Monteghini, dead suicidal shortly after two months from the tragic accident that marked the end of his/her/their husband. The principal room was prepared to ardent room with changing floral crowns from the rarest exotic flowers and with an esoteric admixture of essences that he/she caressed the air harmonically making her/it mysticism. Dafne had abandoned in a shining