Portrait of M.C. by unknown authors.

1.3 Portrait of M.C. by unknown authors.

And then began the search to that strange building located in an austerely respectable, but by no means dismal street. Seen from outside, the building looked like a German consulate in xxxxxx. Large rooms took up the whole ground foor. Though it was neither a Sunday nor a holiday nobody was around at the time, which gave to this portion of the street a weary, melancholy air, that particular dreary atmosphere one associates with Anglo-Saxon towns on Sundays. A faint smell of docks hung in the air, the indefnable and highly suggestive odour given off by warehouses adjoining the fondamenta. The idea that the building resembled a German consulate in xxxxxx was a purely personal of M.C.'s, and when she spoke about it to her friends they smiled and said they found the comparison odd, but they immediately dropped the subject and went on to talk about something else. M.C. concluded from this that perhaps they had not really understood what she meant, and she refected on the diffculty of making oneself understood when one's thought reached a certain depth.

An idea, an idea doesn't come to mind, hard work in the builders' yard, while the hissing devices transform things into other things and the job is full of sweat and dust. M.C's mind returned to these considerations which she had pondered over in her mind a thousand times. Her thoughts returned to the times of xxxxxx, to the raised fst in front of the commission, the rector, the professors, the assistants, the doctorates, the PhD students and the astonished Cyrenians. No-one fully understood that gesture, not even her. She thought back to the times of Umanitaria and of xxxxxx. Oh! Blood and people of the massacre and of the distant hybridization, between the populations of Liguria, the Gauls, the Longobards and the simpletons, with that sprinkling of lies which gives the taste and semblance of a civilisation, like cinnamon powder on whipped cream! A strange thing has happened to us: all our ideas and feelings have changed.

Thinking of these things, M.C. leaned against the window and wasn't aware of the uniformed agents knocking at the door.

Once there was a man.

DO NOT READ THIS: "DO NOT READ THIS" I SAY Twice there were two men SKIP THIS: "SKIP THIS" I TELL YOU AND YOU Thrice there were three men Lieutenant R: «We knocked on the door but no-one answered. From inside we could hear the sound of a radio. I had moved towards the corner of the building and from there I looked up towards a partly opened window behind which I caught a glimpse of a woman: I shouted “So there is someone here, could you please come down?”. The stranger withdrew into the room». Meanwhile Chief Offcer C. had reached the door and called out the name that appeared on the name-plate. A man of about thirty appeared in the doorway and a brief argument with the police followed. «I'll keep anyone off this house. When I hear someone come closer I start swinging. I don't care who I hit. I don't see who I hit. I've got to keep talking. I really have to believe this. I want to stay alone here, I don't want anybody to come here with me. I don't want anybody to come here. I want to stay alone. I don't want anybody to come here. I don't want anybody to come here with me. I've really got to believe this.

I've got to keep talking. I want to stay alone. I don't want anybody here. I don't want anybody. I've got to keep talking, I've got to keep talking, I've got to keep talking. I'll keep anyone off the house. I'll keep anyone from coming here. I want this space to be mine. I don't care who comes here. I'll prevent anyone from coming here. I can't pretend this. I'll keep anybody off the house». And then the frst bomb exploded in Chief offcer C's face and he lost his eye and his hand in the grass.

If, at that moment M.C. had shouted, she would have said: «I will lighten the work of the fre and pour gasoline over my clothes. I still have three bottles of gasoline in reserve, after pouring several dozen over the heads of the murderers. That was a great moment in my life, and I was convulsed with laughter. I could never have imagined that the death of people, even enemies - even enemies such as these - could fll me with such joy». And maybe M.C did shout those words in the moment in which she decided her destiny, while brandishing her pistol and positioning her shoulder bag.

«Enough, enough, don't shoot, we are wounded». But it is just a trick. The man is about to throw another hand bomb. We shoot. The man escapes throwing himself into the undergrowth.

The rest we know, even if certain particulars still remain unknown. There is nothing to do but trust the concise trial documents and the statement made by Lance Corporal B., who states: 623. "At all costs I will get to that house."—But if there is no diffculty about it—can I try at all costs to get to the house?

621. Let us not forget this: when 'I raise my arm to shoot', my arm goes up. And the problem arises: what is left over if I subtract the fact that my arm goes up from the fact that I raise my arm? ((Are the kinaesthetic sensations my willing?))

622. When I pull the trigger on, I don't usually try to pull it on.

625. "How do you know that you have shot someone?"—"I feel it." So what you recognize is the feeling? And are you certain that you recognize it right?—You are certain that you have raised your arm; isn't this the criterion, the measure, of the recognition?

M.C. falls, even if no-one can say how it happened. To hear all the voices, the hypotheses and the ballistic evidence of the case, the woman seemed to simply fall into infnity. It is certain that someone fred but this is not the point. The most savage crime, for which there is no forgiveness, was certainly committed by R.C., husband and companion, who, three days after the event wrote the worse possible love-letter: We cannot allow ourselves to shed tears for our fallen companions but we must learn the lessons of loyalty, coherence, courage and heroism! In the end it is the war which resolves the question of power.

Francesco Urbano Ragazzi