Con il vento

The cement cancels people out, the city is a place to flee. Where the wind doesn’t blow, everything be- comes gloomy, and dies. A woman, lying in the shade of a linden tree, takes faraway shelter in the places of her childhood. The first day of school, a yellow satchel, a red coat, a boy kicking at a toy. It’s time to go with the winds, time to disappear.

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