17
A month after the earthquake, there were only a couple of reporters left, those of the most accredited TV stations.
The rest of the media circus, eighty journalists, seventy-two cameramen, ninety-four technicians from all over the international press, had already dismantled satellite dishes and antennas, loaded cameras and microphones onto the vans and left Castelmuso.
The earthquake had exhausted all his stories. After all, only fourteen people had died. Fourteen boys. All died under the rubble of Dancing Sport. Nothing compared to the earthquakes of recent years, all far more disastrous.
That night there were also many injured, but fortunately few collapsed; an uninhabited farmhouse, the top of the bell tower of the church of San Catervo, a piece of the ring road wall, a crane and
