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Dos Gardenias

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David J. L'Hoste              by Giorgio Ballario     Santiago, Chile, December 17, 1976 “Damned Pisco Sour,” he thought, tugging the sheet up to shield his face from the sun that filtered through the window. “And damned all that cocaine that I did all night long”. His head was killing him, and he felt his heart pump madly, while the hotel room was spinning like a carnival merry-go-round. With his eyes closed he felt the other side of the bed, but he found nothing. Malusardi jumped up: Isabelita was gone. He opened the drawer of the side table and exhaled a sigh of relief. His wallet was still there, and also the false passport with which he had entered Chile two months ago. The gun was there too. It was the .380 Walther PPK that Raffaele Mannucci had given him. He closed the drawer and let himself drop on the mattress, humid with sweat. The headache was relentless, and he couldn’t even understand if it was morning or afternoon. He crawled to the side table o

Two Gardenias

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Carpita     Dos Gardenias (Part Two).     by Giorgio Ballario      T hey were enemies, Malusardi told himself; and in war one kills as easily as one can get killed. But seen from up close and observing his face printed on the light-reactive photographic paper, inevitably the man lost his status of political adversary and became just another man, who maybe had a woman at home who waited for him and maybe even children. Just a guy who looked at himself in mirror in the morning, shaving, detecting with some regret his new gray hair. Then he had breakfast, he lit the first cigarette and scanned the newspapers titles. From that point of view, the man didn’t seem like an enemy anymore; but in a few minutes Malusardi would put a bullet in his brain.         “I’ve got to do it,” he would have liked to explain to him “but it’s nothing personal.” Even though the filthy newspaper the reporter worked for had accused him personally of having been a member of the group who ha

Da lì all'eternità.

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di Tyrone Power  (traduzione e adattamento di L. Pavese) “Da qui all’ eternità” era il titolo di un famoso film, che si svolgeva nel teatro bellico del Pacifico, durante la seconda guerra mondiale. Da lì all’ eternità, nel senso che c' è mancato poco, invece è quello che probabilmente Tyrone, (o Tyron) Power deve aver pensato, tutte le volte che gli tornava in mente l’ esperienza terrificante che narra in questo breve articoletto, apparso sul numero di maggio del 1949 della rivista Flying. Buona lettura. Tyron Power e Gene Tierney in un momento meno stressante Quando penso a Saipan, penso al Corpo dei Marines e al Curtiss C-46 col quale navigai, in giro per il Pacifico, durante la Seconda Guerra mondiale. E tutte le volte che m’infilo in un abitacolo, rivivo quei trenta secondi infernali che ho passato una mattina a Saipan, partendo per una ordinaria missione di routine. Trenta secondi tremendi, che però mi hanno impartito una lezione di volo fondamentale, che non vog

Preghiera a San Rocco

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Rocco, pellegrino laico in Europa, contagiato, incarcerato, tu che hai guarito i corpi e hai portato gli uomini a Dio, intercedi per noi e salvaci dalle miserie del corpo e dell’anima