Storm Pilot

Storm Pilot

Storm Pilot

Lucia felt something was missing from the wall of the living-dining room of her apartment: a painting. That's why, on Friday, he strolled through corners of Palermo that he had never frequented before, until he came across a small art gallery, old and opaque, passing almost unnoticed by pedestrians.

"I'll take this one," she said, looking tenderly at a picture of three puppies playing in the field. As soon as the owner of the business took the first step to go to wrap it, something from a top shelf fell hard on the carefree puppies of the painting, slicing them end to end. When the shock and dust removed by the fall decanted, Lucia saw that what had fallen was another picture. Another picture that hypnotized her barely set eyes on him.

The painting was entitled "The Gardener Contemplates the Night" . It was quite simple: a Victorian mansion, with a large central latticed garden, a single light on a second floor room ... and a black figure looking out the window.

When Lucia, after thinking about it a few minutes, he asked the saleswoman to wrap that one up, the old woman did not hesitate for a second. She seemed anxious to get rid of the picture, desperate for her to leave her gallery forever. He seemed to want to look at it as little as possible, put on gloves to wrap it and kept him away from his body as if he had the plague.

All this seemed strange to Lucia, obviously, but ignored which meant that they would be eccentricities of "these bohemian art people."

What did it matter, if at all, it was perfect on your wall.

For the first three Lucia heard noises, but she attributed them to the old pipes in her apartment and gave them no importance.

Storm Pilot
Storm Pilot

But on the fourth night, when she got out of bed to drink a glass of water, looked at the painting.

Lucia put her hands to her mouth and gasped. The gardener figure was now standing at the door of the mansion. It was the darkest and most disturbing figure he had ever seen. He ran to his room, closed the door. On the verge of psychosis, he decided that this was surely a dreadful nightmare, and he asserted to himself that he was going to throw that picture the next day.

Then, a frame-like blow falling from the wall whipped the silence of his apartment.

The sound of heavy, slow steps followed, making them more and more present. He was heading toward her. A broken breath, like someone who has not breathed for a long time, resounded throughout the apartment.

He killed them all ... he killed them and buried them in the garden. for the rest of his life he only looked at the rose every day from the window, as they rose from their inert corpses.

> Lucia uttered a heartbreaking cry as she realized that she had forgotten to lock the door to her room.

On the other side, in the hallway, there was the click of pruning shears.

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