La notte di Halloween è appena passata.
Il fatto che sia una festa di origine celtica già non mi dispone tanto benevolmente nei suoi confronti, però che ci sia della gente che per tutta la notte se ne va in giro travestita da mostro è una cosa che mi ha sempre fatto sorridere.
Poi mi fanno una grande tenerezza i bambini che suonano al campanello e urlano minacciosi al citofono: "Dolcetto o scherzetto?"
Mi piace pensare che possano essere quegli stessi piccoli mostri - che si manifestano finalmente nella loro reale forma demoniaca - che persecuted us for all the bloody weekend of the summer with their damned beach tennis tournament under 12/14/16, so I look out the window and welcomes the launch down (with some vehemence, I must say ) nougat, candy and various sweets. Of course, due for at least two years. So, to match the cupcake with the joke ... I like to imagine that the little children on their return home after impigozzati of crap, spend the rest of the night lying on the bathroom floor hugging the toilet, invoking the druids to take action to alleviate with their magic potions and fearful cataclysms intestinal bloating that they are smashed.
But this year, besides the traditional costumes like witches, ghosts, vampires and werewolves, the aficionados of this holiday have adopted a new and frightening disguise, alluding to a recent and unusual monstrous figure emerged from the horrific stories Summer collected from the sun on the coast of Spina.
It 's a very special living dead, and turned off by the vacant look of someone who has seen unspeakable atrocities, a be deprived of his willingness to walk half naked in his boxer ordinance, rackets in hand, arms and head hanging down dragging semisprofondati feet as if they were in the sand ...
E ' the zombies of beach tennis: the undead back from a game ONLUS !
in the foreground, a volunteer NGO
"Do play those less fortunate than you." You will notice that, now helpless, is slowly turning into zombies ...
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