By Lily Prior
struggling mortician in working-class Rome, Freda purely married her repulsive ventriloquist husband, Alberto, since it used to be prophesied that she'd achieve this. Now that he is vanished mysteriously together with his both abhorrent dummy (who Freda suspects is de facto a midget), she'd like them either to stick lacking -- even though she's devastated through the simultaneous disappearance of her soul mate, Pierino, her loved conversing parrot. whereas the police examine this sequence of attainable crimes, Freda will proceed embalming via day, unleashing her caged passions at evening in a seedy cabaret (until a sad hearth leaves the owner with a tuba caught on his head), attempting to make do with a conversing hamster in lieu of expensive Pierino . . . and recalling the vagaries of lifestyles that led her to this unlucky juncture.
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Extra info for Cabaret: A Roman Riddle
The Detective gripped the bedpost. And I began to pull. I pulled and pulled. The Detective gritted his teeth. Then with one ﬁnal yank, which took more strength than I knew I had, they came free, but I ricocheted across the room, was ﬂung against the closet, cracked my head against it, and woke up. What a ridiculous fantasy! I wanted to laugh. The Detective, of all people! I had always been prone to bizarre dreams, but this one won a prize. Yet when I heard a voice emerging from the darkness, I felt a jolt like another electric shock.
The bubble Fiamma had blown into a big balloon burst, covering her face with exploded gum and obscuring her eyes. Her foot jabbed blindly for the foot brake but couldn’t ﬁnd it. Mamma was screaming. I was screaming. Fiamma was screaming. Seconds from certain death, the old man was screaming. By the roadside his middle-aged daughter, entrusted with his care, and whose back had been turned for no more than a second, was screaming too. Time seemed to have stopped. There was just speed, and screaming.
The strain of listening to other people’s troubles all day at work, coupled with an unhappy home life, was bringing him close to the edge. He suspected his lover, Nicodemo, of having an affair with the lascivious butcher Fontanelli; Nicodemo’s high-spending ways had left him in debt up to his eyebrows; his mother was sick; his moped had been stolen that morning; he was brutally overworked; and his head of department, Dr. Farranda, was a tyrant who didn’t understand him. Because of all the stress, he had developed an unsightly rash, his hair was falling out, and in addition, his libido was suffering.