For the first time in weeks I finally don’t have someone screaming at me over the tiniest little things. I think that calls for going out for drinks. Lots of them. Anyone who cares to join the first few rounds are on me.
[ he’d hung up the phone hours ago, but his fingers still buzzed like he was holding it in his hands. he had an afternoon off while rudra was in court, and had made the mistake of thinking he could tell his parents he was returning to studies and not have it blow up in his face. he’d hung up when the real shouting had started, unwilling to listen to his parents fight, and had started doing dishes. he did dishes, he did laundry, he washed the floors. he was trying to fold laundry when he heard the door open and sirius’ voice. he turns, dropping the jumper he’d been trying to fold, and walks out to the other room. he pauses a moment, uncertain ]
Where did you go? Why didn’t you tell anyone you were leaving? I miss you so much. It feels like a part of me is missing; physically, not just emotionally.
Watching hockey this season made me cry because you weren’t there to yell at the tv with me, or make snack runs between periods. I can’t text you at 2am to order food anymore. We were on such weird schedules but we were always in sync.
When I made it to school this year my entire residence building felt wrong. I couldn’t run down the hall to bang on your door and tell you things that no one else would care about. We were supposed to be roommates; living in our own rooms with a shared bathroom. I bought towels to match the ones I knew you owned. I was excited for you to bring back my blowdryer.
Your trip to London was supposed to be for the summer. I knew you wouldn’t be able to use your phone and I beat myself up for not having pushed you to give me your Skype name. Why the hell didn’t you ever get Facebook? That whole summer I had dreams that you didn’t come back. And then you didn’t.
You never answered your texts or phone calls. I never stopped trying. Then the day came when I called again and I heard “this number is no longer in service”. I sobbed so fucking hard that it hurt. It’s been over a year since we last spoke. I took a screenshot of the messages so that I’ll never forget the day. I still text you, and I hope your number doesn’t get assigned to someone else. I love(d) you so goddamn much.
We became best friends within what, 8 months? Everyone thought we must have known each other longer because of how close we were. All year people asked me where you were. They remembered that to find me, they’d find you, and vice-versa. I couldn’t tell them anymore. People joked that you died, probably to convince themselves that you hadn’t. It made me sick. I don’t know if you did.
I’m angry at you for leaving. I’m afraid that it may not have been your choice.
En esta original guía Adelino Cattani analiza las estrategias encaminadas a defender la opinión personal y a convencer a la otra parte. Con abundantes citas de la tradición retórica clásica y de la literatura, y numerosos ejemplos de la vida cotidiana, presenta un repertorio de técnicas y recursos -cómo blindar una tesis, manipular la lógica del contrario, elegir los ejemplos más eficaces, trucos para ganar tiempo, el empleo de la ironía, la manipulación del lenguaje, etc.- para vencer en un enfrentamiento dialéctico.-