At the warehouse
We let some more time pass, immerged in each other’s melancholic thoughts, this was a sign that the hangover wasn’t completely gone. The silence was broken only by the monotone dripping of water that gathered on top of the drainpipe to then fall in a small puddle, the air became cold and I imagined that Giotto was regretting the loved hair of which he was definitely deprived. In the meantime it was time to get back on track and I still had that idea stuck in my head, I wanted to try and retrieve that metal box at the warehouse but I really didn’t know how to convince Giotto to give me a hand. Tell him a lie would’ve made me feel bad because he was a good chimpanzee and he didn’t deserve it, I told myself that if we were free it was also thanks to him and that I had no rig
