Saturday morning, almost noon. Released by radio on the monotonous voice of the reader of the RAI. I look in the mirror and see a person who is nice and I do not like it one bit '. I will hide his eyes fixed on me and one of those packages of shaving soap to be found only in the barbershop, those without brand packaging and timeless, regardless of fashion and marketing. It seems silly, but I feel so at ease. The voice on the radio continues to speak, the silence broken only by the small intestine of the shop zic zic scissors work:
"Tokyo. At the age of 88 years died yesterday Taikichiro Mori, who with his wealth estimated at approximately 18 thousand billion lire was considered in the last two years, the authoritative U.S. magazine Forbes, the richest man in the world. After the tragic death of his eldest son, Mori Taikichiro bequeathed to his second a huge real estate assets, for a total of one million and 250 million square feet of offices and apartments in central Tokyo. "
The barber is cutting your hair gives me a drag on his cigarette, then sits on the edge of the shelf after fall the ashes on the ground with a flick of the long nail of his little finger, and turns to his colleague, now at the checkout.
- A Brother, have you heard?
- What?
- I said you heard?
- I was giving rest to the client, I have not heard anything.
- And when did not even hear the gunfire, you. (She smiles at me complicit in the mirror. At that moment the clock struck twelve, and the cannon of the Gianicolo shoots his shot blanks. Billy Wilder could not have done better, I think).
- What was I supposed to feel?
-On the radio, Caciro Comoros, the richest man in the world ...
- Embee?
- He's gone too. (Looking at me solemnly.)
- Caciro Hamor, and where it came from China?
- E chennesò, Japan, China India, so I know those are all the same, only that it was the richest man in the world, and that he is gone like everyone else.
- but full of what?
My barber has finished his work. With a mirror I show my bald head and mercilessly the increasingly conspicuous. While the brush with me takes away the last lint from his jacket, she turns to his colleague:
- De 'mmm ... I ca, nun me it speaks to ... Brother, some just do not understand a shit, you ...
- He spoke about the philosopher.
laugh, while the next customer sits on a chair in front of the mirror.
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