.Alessandro Baricco reading an extract from his book "City"
Bird, il suo nome, bird, vecchio pistolero, il più vecchio, con strade sulla faccia, camminate da infinite sparatorie, diceva Shatzy. Gli occhi deglutiti dal cranio, e mani di ulivo, le mani veloci, rami d'inverno. Stanchi. Il suo pe.
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