The End

Sunday, 6th June 1993

That week even Angelo asked me to work overtime, it couldn't be otherwise considering the full summer in progress and the mass of tourists crowding the streets of the city centre, especially at evening. I finished after midnight and taking advantage of a colleague's ride I got home when it was almost one.

I immediately recognized Eva in the parking.

The day had been warm and sunny but later it got cloudy until to feel several drops on my face as I was heading towards the entrance. Accessory the headache due to fatigue and cold, moreover the semi darkness of the stony path and its irregular and slippery ground after the rain, I fell down. Ruinously. A sprain on the left ankle annoying me all night long, preventing me to properly rest. Unforgettable also the scratches and bruises on arm and shoulder, protecting my tough head during the fall. A multitasking but not equally coordinated creature, even Fiamma occasionally told me. Indeed it wasn't the first time I got hurt by doing movements so easy for the rest of humankind.

Batman seemed to understand, as he behaved like a nurse for all the time, rubbing against my wounded body as for taking care of it.

The next day I woke up with a swollen foot, but mainly more tired than when I went to sleep. I felt so bad because that week I accumulated an huge amount of working hours or more banally I got the fever? I didn't have a thermometer to verify and when I tried to put my foot down the bed, so reaching the mirror of the bathroom and checking personally my pity state I saw the stars. I didn't lose heart and hopping on the healthy foot I reached however the nearby room; the mirror gave back to me an image suggesting exactly rising temperatures. If all that was due to the cold or to the accident it wasn't impossible to know.

I didn't panic and I invented a plan. I climbed down the stairs on the bum, then got back upright with fatigue I opened the window door. It was late, however I didn't get blinded by the light; the weather was cloudy, perhaps still in a rain mood and potentially facilitator of new slips. I brought a chair near the kitchen where, once supported the knee ending with the wounded foot, among so many difficulties and pain I prepared my breakfast.

After that I tried to remember where I left my backpack the evening before. The idea was to take it, go to the nearby bar where I'd have called Sandro, asking him to come and pick me up, maybe without frightening him too much.

But before I had to find him at home.

But before I had to wear at least a slipper and get to the bar.

I made a new attempt but nothing to do, the only way to move was hopping; not exactly the best way to walk again that damn stony path and even cross the road.

What a mess!

But above all: how to get home in such a state?!

*****

As I was sinking in the deepest discomfort, the doorbell rang. Who was that?

By staying close to the wall and slowly proceeding after several attempts I reached the entrance.

Darkness eyes looked at me from the other side of the threshold. He noticed my astonishment and preferred to start from afar:

"Is everything right?"

"So and so."

Got the permission, he immediately got to the point:

"What happened?"

I didn't answer, he took advantage of the waiting for furiously investigating my person with his gloomy look.

"When I came back with the boat I saw everything closed and I wondered why, usually you're a morning person. Once at home I saw you opening the shutters of the terrace, just one. It seemed to me strange for a precise person like you."