"For the two of them, all this was just a moment, a glance. Then Viola left the smoke from the shacks mingling with the evening shadows and the cries of women and children behind her, to gallop among the pines on the beach.
Beyond was the sea. A faint clatter of stones. It was dark. The clatter became a hammer: the pony raced along sriking sparks against the pebbles. From the low twisted branches of a pine tree my brother looked at the clear-cut shadow of the fair girl across the beach.
From the black sea rose a wave with a faint crest -- it curled higher, advanced all white, broke and grazed the shadow of the horse and girl racing at full spead; Cosimo on the pine tree found his face wet with salty spray.
"
一个周末的琐事，清洁买菜洗衣服办事，一切都因为能有两个小时在咖啡馆读到这样的文字而值得。
