Toh, two simpletons on the rooftops of Paris. One of them is a British airman "generic", while the other is a "specialist" in the art of mixing colors and paint brushes and brushes with the walls and the facades of the houses. It 'just a brush (and not with a brush), held firm and light in hand, the painter, that morning from just 9 in one day this summer, touched and retouched the surface to be painted without a smudge of color. The painter was in the balance, suspended from a hoist, precision and determination, and in the case painting a grid of green quota. The work did not stop for up to look around and also down below, where history, including uniforms and rags hanging Aryan, he stood, like a polished black stone asleep on the bottom of a mountain stream, waiting not a salmon or a trout but a nientepopodimenoche obergruben any fuhrer, now ninety senior sbrodolone. The pike is generic, since it landed by parachute on the head of the painter French ( A) to be rescued by the painter, ( B) be accompanied to the Turkish baths (at that point, answered the desired A and B, the painter might also extricate the pleasure of smoking a Tuscan cigar and call the airman Ishmael or Melampus). The specialist is called Augustine (or Agostina ), the generic name escapes me now (so is a generic). The two friends are strangely es'incoraggiano each other in seeking an escape over the rooftops of Paris (the city is Paris and not just Peretola is proved by the Eiffel Tower - coordinates: 48 ° 51'30 "N 2 ° 17 '40 'is like writing Verne - visible in the distance). As they passed over the roofs of all the Germans put down the bottom gin cotton-eyed, not having dell'imbianchino, cares much for the German occupiers (we have one at home or on the radio by vocia millenovecentotretatre), but because see them (the generic and specialist) so close and yet so distant neighbors up there high above the rooftops of Paris.
Well, by and saw the two fugitives from a useful loft and there descend, then down the stairs of a building, intending to lead the roadway. Running down the sixth floor and then the fifth. Grasping the railing of the first flight of stairs that leads to the fourth (There would also be wanting a lift but is ignored by the two, because the plot) the two Germans hear the sound of boots that tread the steps of the first flight of stairs on the ground floor, an unpleasant noise that makes them give up by the landing ground floor, what to do? stay forever on the roofs? be ', and climb the first flight of stairs leading to the sixth floor of the apartment door opens and out of the fifth girl worried about a possible German round (cares for others and also to the neighbors), both the see and see the door open and see the salvation at hand this time and not the foot, and go down and come inside the apartment.
The two fellas just mumble a few words and will be saved. All safe, even with cloning animals, and the rest is history ... that is a French comedy ( Three men fleeing , 1966). Will remain a mystery as the representation basted then and there or there to here or there for a family scene of a quarrel between husband and wife, the Airman poised on the roof of the lift, can confuse and derail the attention of and rational beings so superior as were the Germans of the past.
Well, who does not have dreamed of looking out the window of a train rumbles that runs a summer afternoon, to descend to the first station and after a few meters into unfamiliar streets in a doorway of a house, go from room to room as if it were our own. Case ends of the earth, houses around the corner, hidden by a wall of houses garden. Case yet unknown family homes as the last safe haven or first (depending on your point of view).
He took a deep breath. "I'm back," he said.
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