In my building, at about eight o'clock in the afternoon, someone whistling a song. Every day. It is a matter of Kill Bill, 'Twisted Nerve', which sounds when Elle Driver is about to put to The Bride a lethal injection while in coma.
is a loud, deep, male. I always listen through the window overlooking the inner courtyards, in the Music Room. Belongs to a big guy, strong, with short hair and dark complexion, slightly pointed ears. His face conveys strength and serenity, and always smiling. Just whistle a phrase, but it does perfectly, including the last part, which is that nobody remembers. It's like a ritual. He whistles a phrase, I whistle the following from my window, jamming the end. But nUNCA continues.
not really know him. Nor do I know. But I enjoy thinking about the echo of whistles of all the neighbors echoing between the walls of the courtyard, singing an unhealthy and addictive melody of Kill Bill without really knowing why.
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