4 February.
In a side street off piazza Ferretto in Mestre, well within the pedestrian area, different people are talking at the same time, but can’t hear each other; they are one in front of the other, but can’t see each other. It’s as if they were invisible. Nobody can either see or hear everyone else: it’s a group of people imprisoned by the solitude in fear, with words rising like smoky figures from a fire and riding the air molecules that bounce all over like the ball in a game of squash.
piazza Advanced in her years, a woman coming home on her electric trike keeps going round and round in circles, turning in on herself. The lady’s torso heaves forward as her head swings uncontrollably: they have just driven a large steel nail into her neck with a nail g*n, almost piercing it fro
