They just live
Women who always survive on their own with obsessive and mystical precision, like after an overexertion, think they are not liked. Like cogs struggling to go round, they have to stop to get going again. They live with the transformation and they are the living proof of it, then a tiredness catches them like a predatory animal.
They talk amongst themselves, they become friends, they know how to have fun and how to argue. One day they are all for hard work and imagination, the next a little less, they just live. They have a marked face that speaks of them, they sigh and take a breath, they just want endless caresses and massages and silk on their skin.
They say few people, barely anyone, likes them, but they just want to exaggerate.
Viola’s friends choose markets to get lost amongst the crowds or old taverns where nobody knows them, to let themselves go a little. Then, going home and thinking of something funny, they burst into pillowy soft laughter that carries on until they wear themselves out.
They feel the music and its lyrics because they get carried away and when people leave or betray them, they run away to the attic so they don’t feel.
They say they would go crazy, but it is the usual desire to exaggerate.