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  • This was the best result we got of Leo’s attempt to skate again.

    Before time gives him another pitfall, another plaster in the arm, he plastered the skate.

    Now the promise of joy will be for someone who must have more years in the future to rediscover the wheel and hit the road faster than he wants and can right now. We’re almost shouting “stop the world, ‘cause we want to get off!!”

    So the skate goes, packed the way it makes me see Leo’s fortune on it: a good laughter, a point of constraint, a little pain in the idle arm hurt by the absence of a dear fellow. Legs now are free to run together, not having to balance a dangerous run over a board and manage my female’s short steps.

    I don’t tell him that I will miss his smiling face under the helmet he disastrously forgot in the President’s Election Day. I’m optimistic to believe that it was a luck that he didn’t hit his head (and injured his arm) before giving his vote, but only twenty minutes later - after all he developed his sense of responsibility along some couples of decades.

    When mummies were not mummies they walked, and since then they’ve been travelling through time but without twinkling an eye! That’s what we wish on skate, after an age: travelling through time. But without being able to blink the eye…?

    Our pleasure now is to enjoy how it looks as a funny sarcophagus. We hope the youngster who bought it can smile for the nonsense appearance of the wish becoming reality to him.

    Now it goes again to someone else travestied as the eldest past. We’re not good packers.
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