My second life
#107
[IT-EN]
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Una sera Luca scende a buttare la spazzatura, ma quando cerca di rientrare nella sua casa, al 20° piano di un palazzone di periferia, scopre che nel suo appartamento ci abita un'altra persona e che la sua vita, come era fino a qualche momento prima, non esiste più. Cominciano da questo momento per Luca nuove ed inaspettate avventure che si mischiano ai ricordi della sua vecchia vita.
Lavoro
Qualcuno, nella fretta di uscire, mi aveva usato come scendiletto, saltandomi sopra e, ancora una volta, a rimetterci era la mia povera mano, sempre dolorante. Mi alzai anche io, come tutti dormivo con addosso i vestiti del giorno prima, la mia roba, borsone e chitarra, erano troppo distanti, quindi, seguendo tutti gli altri, senza aver capito bene cosa stesse succedendo, cercai di buttarmi fuori dalla porta, come cercavano di fare anche gli altri.
Pensavo ad un incendio, una fuga di gas, qualcosa del genere, anche se non sentivo odore di gas e non vedevo né fiamme né fumo.
Capii finalmente cosa diceva qualcuno vicino a me: “Polizia” Quindi quel fuggi fuggi era dovuto ad una retata, una visita notturna ed inaspettata della polizia, non ad un pericolo impellente.
Io ero italiano, in teoria non avrei avuto nulla da temere, tuttavia anche io non avevo documenti né modo di provare la mia identità, per questo avrei potuto avere dei problemi, dei grossi problemi con la polizia, quindi non mi fermai a pensare e continuai a seguire il flusso della massa in fuga.
Finalmente mi ritrovai nel corridoio dove c’era la porta d’ingresso dell’appartamento da cui tutti tentavano di scappare, disperdendosi poi senza coordinamento. C’era chi saliva ai piani superiori, chi scendeva verso l’uscita dal palazzo, in una fuga disordinata e, molto probabilmente, inutile.
Bastavano tre, quattro poliziotti per bloccare tutti e difficilmente, se stavano facendo una retata, si erano presentati in meno di quattro, quasi certamente, al contrario, erano decine gli uomini in divisa che ci aspettavano al varco.
Correre verso l’alto mi sembrò stupido, riuscire ad uscire era forse altrettanto inutile ma se c’era una possibilità poteva essere nella confusione che doveva sicuramente esserci al piano terra.
Mi misi a correre lungo le scale più forte che potevo, man mano che scendevo però c’erano sempre meno fuggitivi, sembrava che la maggioranza avesse deciso o di tentare la fuga forse dal tetto, una cosa che sul subito non avevo considerato, oppure avevano cercato rifugio in altri appartamenti o in nascondigli magari già conosciuti.
La mia scelta ormai l’avevo fatta, arrivai al piano terra a tutta velocità, ad accogliermi, nell’androne non vidi nessuno, mi sembrò impossibile che la principale via di fuga non fosse minimamente presidiata, infatti non era così.
All’improvviso, da dietro una colonna, apparve un braccio che mi abbrancò bloccandomi proprio, ancora, il polso, sempre lo stesso, provocandomi un dolore fortissimo e facendomi carambolare a terra. La mano che mi aveva fatto perdere l’equilibrio aveva dovuto mollarmi, l’androne era semibuio e non vidi chiaramente chi e quanti fossero.
Quel che è certo è che, in pochi istanti, mi furono sopra, non so in quanti, due, tre, forse quattro persone. Sentii dolore ovunque, manganellate, calci, mi arrivavano da ogni parte.
Mi chiusi a riccio, l’ultima cosa che sentii fu un calcio così forte al polso che mi sembrò che mi avessero staccato la mano, poi, per il dolore, persi i sensi.
...continua
One evening Luca goes down to take out the garbage, but when he tries to return to his house, on the 20th floor of a suburban building, he discovers that another person lives in his apartment and that his life, as it was until some moment before, it no longer exists. From this moment on, new and unexpected adventures begin for Luca, which mix with the memories of his old life.
Job
Someone, in a hurry to get out, had used me as a rug, jumping on me and, once again, it was my poor hand, always aching, that lost. I got up too, as everyone slept in yesterday's clothes, my stuff, bag and guitar, were too far away, so, following everyone else, without having understood what was happening, I tried to throw myself out the door, as the others tried to do too.
I was thinking of a fire, a gas leak, something like that, even though I didn't smell gas and didn't see flames or smoke.
I finally understood what someone close to me was saying: “Police” So that stampede was due to a round-up, an unexpected night visit by the police, not to an urgent danger.
I was Italian, in theory I would have nothing to fear, however I also had no documents or way to prove my identity, so I could have had problems, big problems with the police, so I didn't stop to think and continued to follow the flow of the fleeing mass.
Finally I found myself in the corridor where there was the entrance door to the apartment from which everyone tried to escape, then dispersed without coordination. There were those who went up to the upper floors, those who went down towards the exit from the building, in a disorderly and, most likely, useless escape.
Three or four policemen were enough to stop everyone and it was difficult, if they were raiding, less than four had shown up, almost certainly, on the contrary, there were dozens of men in uniform waiting for us at the gate.
Running upwards seemed stupid to me, being able to get out was perhaps just as useless but if there was a possibility it could be in the confusion that surely must have been on the ground floor.
I started running down the stairs as hard as I could, but as I went down there were fewer and fewer fugitives, it seemed that the majority had decided either to try to escape perhaps from the roof, something that I had not considered immediately, or they had sought refuge in other apartments or in hiding places perhaps already known.
By now I had made my choice, I reached the ground floor at full speed, to welcome me, I saw no one in the entrance hall, it seemed impossible that the main escape route was not in the least guarded, in fact it was not like that.
Suddenly, from behind a column, an arm appeared that grabbed me, still blocking my wrist, always the same, causing me a very strong pain and making me carom to the ground. The hand that had made me lose my balance had had to let go, the entrance hall was half dark and I did not clearly see who and how many there were.
What is certain is that, in a few moments, they were on top of me, I don't know how many, two, three, maybe four people. I felt pain everywhere, batons, kicks, they came from all over.
I closed myself up like a hedgehog, the last thing I heard was a kick so strong on the wrist that it seemed to me that my hand had been removed, then, from the pain, I passed out.
......to be continued
@tipu curate
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