Yet, as undoubtedly the evening light is wonderful, there is something that still manages to be more beautiful in the evening light, which is accurate when, for incomprehensible games of currents, twenty jokes, oddities of the sky, clouds defective reciprocal rudeness, and dozens of fortuitous circumstances, a collection of true cases, and absurd - if, that is unique in that light the light of the evening, without warning, it rains. There is the sun, evening sun, and rain. What is the maximum. And no man, as filed with grief or exhausted by anxiety, that faced with such nonsense does not feel an uncontrollable turn over somewhere like laughing. Then maybe you do not laugh, really, but if only the world had a sigh more lenient, able to laugh. Why is such a colossal and universal gag, perfect and irresistible. One thing not to believe it. Even the water that falls on your head, took a minute drop of the sun slipped below the horizon, does not even seem real water. There would be surprised if that turns out to taste and sugar. To say. However, water regulation. All one spectacular exception to the general rules, a great outlet for the ass of any logic. Emotion. So much so that among all the things that are then give a justification for this otherwise ridiculous habit of living also appears certain that, on top of a sharper, more to clean: just being there when that light is the light of that unforgettable evening, without warning, it rains. At least once there.
Alessandro Baricco , Castles of anger
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