The red house in Concordia Sagittaria

think it happens to everyone who has owned a boat. When they’re in the harbor, they want to sail out and go offshore, and vice versa. Imagine this syndrome multiplied by two and applied to flying as well. I was reflecting on this strange mechanism of the mind while sitting at a little table by the lakefront in Lazise. My work commitments were over. In front of me, a truly enchanting sunset was reflected on a lake that looked inviting and full of charm. There’s no point in describing the colors—too much wonder, too much perfection, and constantly evolving. I was trying to fix some details in my memory so I could somehow work them out, who knows when, in an “original” way?! I was almost managing to imagine the possible solutions when the sound of my cell phone suddenly snapped me back to reality. “No problem, of course. It doesn’t bother me at all…” I hang up the phone; they had “turned off the lights.” I try to pick up the thread of my thoughts. Useless. I walk toward the car with the feeling that I’ve missed the last part of the movie. I will never know the ending.