The Last Tear By F. Boschi: Everything Happens, Because It Has To Happen

By Francesco Boschi

The Last Tear by C.J. Johnson Everything happens, because it has to happen A chaotic city, a room with a view, something strong to drink and...In his second book, C.J. Johnson tells us about a chaotic city, a room with a view, something strong to drink, a great love story and what can happen in receiving an anonymous email.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Babelcube Inc.
• Release date: Nov 13, 2020
• ISBN: 9781071574805

Book preview

you.

The last tear

Everything happens because it has to happen

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..There is no money that repays the pain of feeling offended those you love because if you love, if you really love, you will never forget and accept; if you do, for any false reason you will say you did it, you will show who you thought you loved, having only loved you, and you can never ask him to love you ..

It was evening, a mid-autumn evening, the sun was setting but it wasn't dark yet, it was raining heavily and she was standing there drinking something strong while listening to jazz music and mirroring in the window of the room with a view. A blue sofa with four sugar paper cushions, a persian carpet, also in blue, a teardrop lamp that focused its light from above on a glass coffee table, placed in the center of the room, on which they were placed some art and architecture magazines, a silver tray containing a bottle, glasses and a crystal ashtray and finally a diffuser of aromatic essences.On one wall of the room there was a large plasma television, with two art paintings on either side painted by FunnYJ, on another wall a wooden bookcase, white, composed of large cells connected by brushed steel pins, containing old vinyl records and books of all kinds, strictly divided by topic and height, on another wall a door sliding door that led to the other rooms of the house, and finally to the outside of the room,

that window, his window to the world. She was like her apartment, was basic, without excess but elegant. Taller than average, she had very fine hair, shiny and soft, brown, straight and cut at the height of the shoulders, long and slender legs that she did not like, she said she had big knees and crooked legs, a thread of rimmel, she didn't wear much makeup, she liked soap and water, manicured hands and nails, rigorously pearly white nail polish, soft pink lipstick, a thin silver necklace around her neck, a colored beaded bracelet with three pendants, a butterfly, a heart and an angel, on his left wrist, tight jeans, a pair of white and pink sneakers, a white turtleneck shirt without a bra, he had never used it; What should hold me that look like two apricots?, A white, handmade, high-necked sweater. In the evening, when she was in that room, she liked to stay in the dark so that only the street lights would illuminate her, she poured a drop of whiskey, the strong one, he put an ice cube in it, went to the window and observed the

fast cars whiz along the road, people move chaotically and traffic lights regulate the flow of vehicles with those colors so bright. Then, raising his head, he let his eyes walk that great road that from the suburbs reached the heart of the city, a vast urban area, bounded by the Cathedral, the Town Hall and the University, which he placed on the same level, giving the same weight, the same emphasis and the same importance to the heart, soul, feelings, equality, rights, ratio and future of man, an area that was the secular and Catholic soul of the city, but also the most neurotic and In the center of this area there is a very large park, developed around a natural lake, kingdom of swans and ducks, all around a cycle path, relaxation oases with swings, swings and slides dedicated to younger children, trekking circuits for the most sporty and the areas equipped for airsoft. On the shore of the lake there were dozens and dozens of benches, many of which occupied by groups of ladies who, regardless of age, gossiped about this or that, embroidering lace and doilies that no one, today, would have used.

Between the shore and the cycle path there were bounded green areas intended for young and old, who, feeling like eternal champions, challenged each other in epic football or rugby matches, some picnic areas, complete with barbecues, small establishments equipped with umbrellas deck chairs and finally some bars that with their tables were the passion of the sparrows that quickly moved under the various tables in search of every little crumb to eat. In the middle of the lake dozens and dozens of small rowing boats, red, yellow, green and blue, where young lovers and eternal children exchanged dreams and fantastic promises of love. An area where it was possible to see young people running, backpacks on their shoulders, to go to the University, boys and girls sitting on the benches astudying the past and the present without realizing that they were setting their future, seeing elderly people walking slowly, with the smile of wisdom and with the tranquility of those who have already given most of their strength to the world, see tourists, accompanied by expert guides, visit the Cathedral and finally, see politicians heading towards the Town Hall with the hope or desire to make the world better for all.

Every single soul, in the heart of the city, had its own place, had its own reason, its own interest, its own dimension.He raised his head to look at the sky, it was gloomy, it had been all day, after all, it was two days that he hadn't stopped of raining and she had been closed within those walls for too many hours and felt the need to go out, to breathe some fresh air, to hear the buzz of the people and see a shop window but in this weather, with this rain, where could she go? What could he do? She could only stay there, in front of the confused image of herself, hoping that the hours would pass quickly and passing time, playing on the color of the first car that would have traveled the road from that moment onwards or guessing the sex of the first pedestrian who would have left the No one, while she was there, standing to observe the city, seemed to listen to her, no car, taxi, scooter, motorbike or bus traveled that street, no person walking on sidewalks, crossing overpasses or exiting the entrances of the metropolitan areas that day, at that precise moment, only the copious and incessant rain that came down from the sky and the street lamps that,

as soon as they were turned on, they mixed their own light with what remained of the day, enlivened that great street

What do I do?

What could I do? "

She  blew bored "

It's not easy.

This life, it's not easy at all. "

With the index finger of his left hand, he drew a heart, on the glass of the window, then the initial of his name and that of ... he stopped, looked at it, quickly erased everything.

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His life wasn't easy, it hadn't been for a long time and, thinking of it, it couldn't even be. For several years now, she had been facing alone, without the advice or comfort of someone, the gifts that Life, with amazing regularity, gave her.

At first, he had tried to go around it, not to face them, to avoid them, but then he had seen that the problems, after hiding for a while, returned more violent, stronger and more angry than before. He understood that it was useless to wait , that it was useless to pretend, that it was useless to close your eyes and that it was useless to plug your ears, so much so that the problems found and made themselves known.

Adversity is like fresh water on the teeth. If you feel pain, you can only take it away by stopping drinking or getting treatment.

She understood that the best solution was to face what happened to her immediately, with the hope of knowing how to manage it, avoiding delusion, dreaming, fantasizing because the blows she had suffered and few those she had forgotten had been too many. She thought and said she was a determined woman, sure of herself and her abilities, she was convinced that she had a strong character, but the coldness she flaunted only served to mask her

weakness, his vulnerability. He did not accept it, did not want to accept it, but his fragility was so great that to avoid confrontation with others he preferred to isolate himself, and by isolating himself he made himself even weaker and more vulnerable.

Many times she had wondered why she refused any confrontation with others and why she had never managed to overcome the fear of not being accepted, but when she decided to try, to try to overcome her fears by interacting with other people, she closed herself in her silence and returned in his lair, in his hiding place. He loved walking in the park, he loved listening to music, he loved going to the cinema, he loved reading novels with his e-reader, he loved to go shopping in the little shop downstairs, he loved his apartment, he loved shopping, he loved the sea, he loved cooking with a pinch of that and enough of that other even if she did not think she was good, she loved nature, she loved animals, she loved art, but what could she do with that rain?

Is not the day.

"But where am I going?

––––––––

She had no friends to call, she had no one to invite to see a movie, to have a drink or even to have a chat together. Too many times in the past she had been disappointed and embittered by close people. She had suffered so much, so much that she could no longer trust anything or anyone, so much that she isolated herself in her world, a world she didn't like but didn't disappoint.

"Everyone has