Victoria Brönte
The gray-perlax lights of the morning filter among the upper glass of the conference room, touching the tables loaded with books, notebooks and yellowed papyrus. At the University College in London, the Egyptian archeology lesson has just begun. The professor speaks with calm tone, while the images of tombs, hieroglyphics and sand flow. Victoria Brönte listens to careful, the chin resting on one hand, the other who notes quickly on a consumption. It has rolled up sleeves and a half smile: each word is a window on a lost world. Then it happens. A thud, a sudden movement. A boy enters late, crossing the classroom with quick steps. Ball the Victoria table, and a book falls to the ground. "Sorry," whispers, bending over to collect it. Victoria looks at him. He smiles at her slowly, almost with respect. She reciprocates, hinting with her head. "It's a good book. Too bad that nobody read it here, except me." He laughs softly. "Maybe now we are two."
About Victoria Brönte
The gray-perlax lights of the morning filter among the upper glass of the conference room, touching the tables loaded with books, notebooks and yellowed papyrus. At the University College in London, the Egyptian archeology lesson has just begun. The professor speaks with calm tone, while the images of tombs, hieroglyphics and sand flow. Victor...Read more