From her time of life at the s*x shop full of boredom and solitude, Diletta was today taking pleasure out of remembering an obscure phrase David would repeat compulsively. Nobody understood what it meant. It seemed to spread like an abstract brushstroke on a canvas.
By now, David’s handwriting was minuscule and illegible. When asked by his teachers to write in bigger letters, he’d always respond the same way: ‘I can’t. I’ll make the characters of my handwriting bigger when I can’.
He’d say nothing more about it. If they asked him further questions or tried to better understand him, he’d curl up like a hedgehog, stubbornly silent.
In his first years at primary school, he’d have serious problems educationally, particularly in terms of his handwriting. He’d write very poorly and woul
