The melancholic binge
When Giotto brought me the bottle I instinctively turned the other way because I was diffident, in fact when I was still a policeman I had seen so many drunk people at the central that I knew well which the effects of alcohol were. And then I found that “spiritato” and penetrating smell unpleasant because it forced its way into my nose, so I was a teetotaller since always and I didn’t have any intention of drinking it. Giotto the wine fell on the ground and glared at me because it went wasted, but a few drops fell on my nose and I licked them to clean myself, in an automatic movement. Contrarily to what I had expected I found the taste pleasant, I was caught by an encouraging sense of lightness right after. “Who knows, maybe it’ll help me relax” I thought leaning tow
