Grassetti - The Dawn of Sin

Thefirst Thursday of the month was a particularly grey day. The lowclouds had settled on the roofs, the drizzle beating insistently onthe school windows. Despite the weather Daisy Magnoli had the sun inher pocket. The news that had been waiting so long had come and hecould not hide his enthusiasm. He did not attend the psychologycourse until the break.

Heentered the classroom with his umbrella turned by the wind, his coatdripping, a cake decorated with a curl of silver ribbon and a smilethat would have made that moment perfect. She was ready to report the newsof the news .But first she had to rely on a ritual, something that would not breakthe balances ,as she liked to call them. The thing was in fact rather delicate, andthe girls were certainly not saints in earth. Especially those of thelast year, sailed snakes that made no discounts to anyone.

Thosewho attended the psychology course knew that a good harmony or, onthe contrary, a complete disagreement was necessary among thestudents. Daisy knew how much the contrasts trained the temperamentand formed the character, animating the discussions. But in classroomB of the Giacomo Leopardi high school there was neither one nor theother. The relationships between the girls could be considered rathervague and indefinite, enough to induce them to pretend they were allmore or less friends with each other.

Daisytook off her coat, placed the box she had just picked up from LeRomains on the desk, the pastry shop in front of the high school. She blew atuft of soft, smooth hair that

coveredher forehead. He wanted to scrutinize the row of desks, from whichhis companions peered. They all wanted to know but none of them daredto ask.

Thedessert, however, was a clue.

Daisyuntied the bow and unwrapped the cake. He took a pack of plasticplates out of his backpack, removed the nylon and sliced thepuff pastry delicacy.

Thegirls already disagreed about the dessert. Those on a diet thankedand even avoided tasting it. The others, convinced that foodrestrictions wasted more time than excess pounds, tasted the cakeconsidering it something similar to their idea of paradise.

Comeon, tell us how it went! Lorena Rossi asked excitedly appreciatingthe soft fragrance of the flan parisien, with its delicate lemonaftertaste.

"Ohwell ... where do I start? Let me think, Daisy began, her eyessparkling to chase exciting memories. He wanted to tell everything.But the balances were balances ,and she had to be careful. He took a breath, the feeling thateverything he had to say, the words, the phrases to conjugate, theletters themselves of the alphabet were struggling to come out. Atthat moment he had a strange fantasy: he imagined the sloping roofshape of the A to stick on the sternum, the curves of the B pushbehind, as well as the half-curves of the C and the concave andconvex lines of the whole alphabet.

Thelittle speech she had prepared seemed not to want to come out of hermouth. The imagination persisted in not making her give the News ofthe News. "How did it go ... right, then: I arrived with mymother at the Hotel Granduca, the four-star hotel along the mainroad she finally managed to say. There were a lot of peopleoutside. At first I had an exaggerated squeeze, then I calmed downand thought "dirty misery, here we will be sleeping."Fortunately I discovered that many had appeared. Guys sent fromproduction. In

short,a little scene for the backstage to be seen on television. There wereabout fifty who were there for the audition. "

"Shit.The bell. We have little time, "Lorena nibbled her lips, urgingthe girls to finish the cake.

"Andthen? Then what happened? Asked her friend anxiously, who startedto gather plates and cutlery scattered around the counters.

"ThenI went into the conference room Daisy continued.

Theyhad set up a kind of rehearsal room. Low lights. Spotlights on theface, sweat, blush dripping on the cheeks and all that stuff there.There were three guys sitting at the table with bored faces anddead-bitch expressions. The base has started. I sang for a minute, Ithink. Then they took the music off. I stood still, didn't breatheand waited for the verdict, but they kicked me out without evenlooking at my face. I say, not even a look that it is one! I thoughtthey didn't catch me. Point. End of the story. For two weeks I sentthe big cams to fuck, then, all of a sudden, when I started to stopthinking about it ... surprise! She has arrived! She ran agile andgraceful on the telephone line, I on the other side to pick up thephone. You, the call, finally came. "