6
“Ha-ha-ha!” A ringing, carefree laugh echoes over them.
Ivan raises his head, feels his neck, opens his sleepy eyes wide, and catches his first glimpse of a new morning—the bright, deep blues of a clear sky juxtaposed by the striking white-toothed radiance of the girl’s smile.
“Basta schlafen (Basta schlafen – enough sleep (Italian and German)). March-march now,” she says.
A cold-induced cramp shot through Ivan’s body like a bolt of electricity. He kept silent for a while, struggling to return to the real, turbulent world, and met her restrained gaiety with a suspicious gaze. Giulia was sitting near him and biting on a blade of grass that must have been used to tickle him awake.
“Did you say march? Well, we’ll see.”
“Sì, sì (sì – yes (Italian)),” she agreed, studying his face with
