Every morning covering the same old route with its daily stops.
Every morning catching a glimpse of the same faces in the same places. Scrutinizing each other discreetly, maybe with curiosity or some other feelings, unspoken. Questions not asked, answers not given. Stopping at the surface of things, looking for an entry point, a ray of hope which could open a new horizon. Different codes, making any access impossible. Only one more second before you go on. Fleeting sensations ina different world. Feeling alien. Ogni mattina lo stesso percorso, le stesse fermate. Ogni mattina agganciare per un attimo gli stessi sguardi nello stesso luogo. Studiarsi con discrezione, forse curiosità, chissà cosa di altro. Domande non fatte, risposte non date. Fermarsi all’esterno delle cose cercando in esse un punto di entrata, uno spiraglio dal quale poter almeno vedere. Differenti codici, nessuna possibilità di accesso, nessuna. Solo qualche secondo e poi via. Sensazioni sfuggenti di un mondo diverso. Sentirsi straniero Comments are closed.
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AuthorStories and novels, stories and shades of words. Sapphire can be a voice, a whisper, a night talk. Colours in words, words merged and melted with pictures. Words as colours, words as shapes sometimes overlapping with the visual experience. A different way to see the world or, maybe, just the very same way using different tools and finding different paths. Archives
December 2021
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