Simurg had just returned from his daily flight, he had been caressing my hand for a while but I hadn't really noticed.
<< How do you feel? I know the news has devastated you >> Sofia said sitting on my lap;
<< I don't know what to say, honestly it's the worst you could give me. In the house there were all the paintings made by my mother, now nothing remains of her >> I replied in a soft voice;
<< I know how much you cared but you have to move forward, you can't live in the past. Not hungry? Simurg has just had a nice feast >>;
<< Thank you but my stomach is upset >>.
We remained in silence contemplating nature, Sofia leaned on my cheek as usual and never before had I thanked God for having introduced her to me.
<
<< You go ahead, I'll stay here for the night. It's too hot and I certainly wouldn't sleep, plus I have too many thoughts on my mind. Don't worry about me, Simurg will be my carer >> I replied trying to reassure her.
I sensed a certain insecurity in Sofia, knowing her she would have wanted to stay by my side but she knew that in those moments I had to be alone, just like my mother while she was painting.
<
Once I was alone I caressed Simurg 's head , he was able to stay by my side in that painful moment of my life.
With my mother's paintings now destroyed, the only thing I had left of my family were memories and luckily no fire could take them away from me.
A very light breeze blew across my face, light and yet perfect for trying to wash away the pain from my soul, perhaps only Chopin could have done better.
In thinking about the great musician I began to remember his music and on the wings of those sweet melodies, I remembered when I listened to him for the first time.
I was in Vienna, Gerd had left for a while and one day, while I was on my way to work, I met a street artist who was playing celestial music I had never heard before.
I approached him to ask him what it was and he replied Chopin, a well-known Polish composer among the greatest of all time.
I was totally shocked by that chance meeting, since then I started collecting the vinyl records of that great artist, however the more I listened to him the more I remembered Stefanie sitting in the club with her foreign boyfriend.
The music brought that memory back to me vividly but I couldn't explain why and yet I had to find it if I wanted to free myself from that obsession.
I had reached the point of dreaming about the scene even at night so I turned to a psychologist hoping she could help me.
Mrs. Weber was among the most renowned in her field, a short woman with short blonde hair cut at the neck.
She had a particular predilection for suits, she wore a different one every time I saw her so much so that it left me perplexed as to how many she actually owned.
His studio was located on the third floor of a residential building in the Erdberg neighborhood , not far from my house, so one spring morning I made yet another appointment and set off.
When I entered he made me sit in the waiting room, he had to finish with a patient first then it would be my turn.
I looked around, I felt like a solitary traveler standing out against the light on a rocky precipice.
I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, I entered a new dimension, estranging myself from the present, so I soon found myself on the rocky precipice of existence.
I was wrapped in a dark green overcoat and held a walking stick in my right hand resting at my side, I felt my hair ruffled by the wind as I was intent on observing the immense vastness of a natural landscape covered in fog.
I was surrounded by a landscape of soft colours, in that dimension I was able to move with surprising fluidity and the evocative contemplation into which I had fallen recalled the essence of the journey within me.
I saw in my mind the light of a train coming towards me at breakneck speed and I was about to scream when I came to.
It took me a few seconds to realize where I was but I had an epiphany.
I rushed home without bothering to inform the psychologist and when I arrived I realized that my parents were not there, perhaps they had gone out.
I went to my room and hastily packed my suitcase, I informed the museum that I would be taking a few weeks' leave then I wrote a note to my family:
" Sorry for the rush but I need to leave, I'm going to Gerd in Florence for some time.
Your
Wolfgang"
I left the note in plain sight on the table with Gerd's phone number that my friend had given me immediately before his departure.
I rushed to the station, bought a train ticket to Florence and left for the cradle of the Renaissance.
My obsession with the memory of Stefanie was linked to the fact that for too long I had been lulled into the comfort of the home.
And the time had come to escape from that golden cage, I had to go and discover the new, the unknown.
Vienna had nothing left to give me, I had to try something different and where to do it if not in Florence, the city where the souls and bodies of the greatest artists of every era dwelt?!
I didn't have time to warn Gerd of my arrival, fortunately he had seen fit to leave me his home address.
When the train left the station I felt a pang in my stomach and looking back I wondered if I was doing the right thing but once I left Vienna I finally felt free like a man released from prison after a long time.
I breathed deeply, so was this the taste of freedom so dear to my friend Gerd? My discomfort began to disappear as I distanced myself from the city, and throughout the entire trip I didn't think once about my parents or their reaction.
I closed my eyes and again visualized the foggy landscape in which I had immersed myself in Mrs. Weber's study.
I once again felt stretched out on the rocky ridge while the infinite unknown loomed in front of me, ready to welcome another brave traveler with the courage to explore it.
At a certain point the train crossed the Alps that separate Austria from Italy and it was like crossing the Pillars of Hercules of human existence.
As the train wound through the mountains I knew I was starting the Italian campaign whose outcome was yet to be discovered, exactly as Napoleon did before me.
Heroic, imperious, alone in command, the Transalpine general led his army among the highest mountains in Europe to conquer the Italian peninsula and a prominent place in history with a posture that recalled the power of a classical sculpture.
Ah, how I would have liked to have the confidence and authority of that Napoleon, but instead I had nothing of his magnificence.
The train was the animal on which I was preparing to overcome the geographical inaccessibles of destiny, like Hannibal on the back of an elephant, Alexander the Great on Bucephalus or Napoleon on his fiery steed that rears up in the face of a steep path of difficulty,
Napoleon firmly dominated the force of nature and without hesitation showed his men the path to follow with his fluttering cloak, making his way against the inhospitable wind of the Alps. Instead I was at the mercy of fate and my creased clothes had nothing of imperial.
I was a humble tourist of destiny, I certainly couldn't compare myself to those great figures and yet only I could write my story.
The journey lasted many hours which seemed like seconds to me and I was amazed at the speed with which I arrived in the Italian city.
When the train stopped I understood that I had gone beyond the fog, I had finally come down from the comfortable ridge of rock from which I had observed the world until then.
And I arrived in the valley shrouded in the fog of the unknown, what was waiting for me? What dangers were about to come upon me?
What awaited me in Florence? Was someone or something waiting for me in that city or was it just my fantasy dictated by the obsession with Stefanie 's image ?
Once I got off the train, I put my foot on Italian soil for the first time in my life and I was hit by a rush of adrenaline, the hairs on my arms stood on end and a shiver ran down my spine from top to bottom.
I took my luggage and walked towards the exit of the station, everything was new to me in fact I think I got lost a couple of times but it didn't matter, I was a child again when I went exploring in the Swiss Garden only this time I was in the real world.
When I managed to find the exit, the first thing I decided to do was take a taxi to go to Gerd, I would decide the rest on the spot.
After a few vain attempts I jumped on one driven by a man in his fifties with a languid look and a plump face.
He had a small gray mustache under his bulbous nose on his reddish face while his few remaining black hairs fluttered left and right.
Once on board I tried to communicate with him but with little success, I didn't speak the local language so I opted for English of which I had an excellent knowledge, however it wasn't at all easy to make myself understood.
Once I got into the taxi I tried to communicate with the driver but I lost my battle so I decided to give him the ticket with Gerd's address and at that point we finally set off.
My friend lived on the top floor of an ancient building in Via San Gallo in District 1 of Florence, within the historic center of the city, the same where the Uffizi Gallery was located.
The museum superintendency had made that apartment available to him as an employee coming from abroad.
Once we were on the move, the excitement and adrenaline for the journey deflated, leaving me with an exhaustion that made me sink into an addictive tiredness.
With difficulty I managed not to fall asleep on the vehicle, I fought with all my being not to close my eyes and at 10.50 pm I finally arrived at my destination.
I arrived under the building where Gerd lived and it was only thanks to the exhortations of the taxi driver that I managed to recover from the torpor into which I had fallen.
We struggled to agree on the payment and now that I think about it I'm not sure I gave him what he deserved but I didn't speak Italian nor he spoke English and I was so tired that I couldn't wait to lie down to rest for a while.
Once I got out of the taxi I was left alone with my suitcase and the ticket with Gerd's address but now a doubt arose in my mind: was I under the right building?
Given the time I couldn't ring all the bells in the building, I tried to read the writing on the intercoms but they were in Italian so all my attempts to understand which apartment was Gerd were in vain.
I began to abandon myself to despair, I wondered what the hell I was doing there in the middle of the night, what madness had driven me to leave my comfortable Vienna to venture into that reckless solitary undertaking without warning?
If something had happened to me who would have tracked me down? I could have been attacked, robbed or worse and no one would have helped me.
I sat on the suitcase full of disappointment, that adventure was not turning out as I had imagined it, in fact it was starting to become a nightmare but right in that moment of maximum despair, luck smiled on me.
At the end of the street I saw some people walking, getting closer to me as the seconds passed, to my great joy I recognized Gerd who was returning home at that moment together with some friends.
When he saw me he ran towards me hugging me tightly, so much so that it took my breath away so much so that I was about to suffocate.
<
<< It was a sudden decision, made on the spot. I had to get out of the gilded cage of Vienna that I had built for myself with so much dedication. I need to meet other people, have new adventures, explore the outside world >> I explained;
<< Do you already have a place to stay? >>;
<< I was actually hoping to stay with you >>;
<
<
<< For a friend this and more. Guys, this is Wolfgang>> he said introducing me to his friends.
Luckily they spoke English and it wasn't difficult to understand each other, they were work colleagues and I found them very kind despite the late hour.
Once inside the building we went up to Gerd's apartment by climbing some long spiral stairs.
Once inside I was surprised to find it very similar to my home in Vienna, the only exception being the lack of a second bedroom.
The apartment consisted of a single space that served as a kitchen and living room, then there was Gerd's bedroom and bathroom.
My friend had done an excellent job of trying to make it as much as possible in his image.
In the center of the room there was a beautiful wooden table resting on a red and gold carpet while what looked like a soft sofa was waiting for its guests leaning against the wall immediately after the door.
<
<>;
<
<< I've sorted everything, don't worry, I also have some money so, if I become a burden, I can go to a hotel >>;
<< Don't talk nonsense, you will be my guest. By the way, are you hungry? >>;
<< To tell the truth, I would like to have a good sleep, the journey was long and tiring >> I replied, looking avidly at the sofa;
<< I understand you, Vienna is not around the corner. Here you go, have sweet dreams >> Gerd cut short, pulling out a blue blanket from under the sofa;
<< Thank you very much, my friend >>.
I took off my shoes and as soon as I put my head on the sofa cushion I fell into a deep sleep from which I was awakened the following morning by the smell of the coffee brewed by Gerd.
I opened my eyes and after the discomfort of the previous evening I was happy to see that familiar face, after all my adventure wasn't going so badly.
<< Good morning sleepyhead, did you rest well? >> he asked handing me a cup of coffee;
<< Divinely >>;
<< Since today is my day off, what do you think if we take a tour around the city? As an art expert you will definitely want to see the Uffizi where I work >> said Gerd;
<< Florence is one of those cities that deserves to be visited >>.
I was already dressed so I just put on my shoes and after freshening up in the bathroom we went out, ready for a new adventure.
To my amazement I immediately noticed that Gerd had a very good command of Italian, he had managed to learn it quickly despite having only been in Florence for a few months.
Once outside the house we had breakfast in one of the bars in the area and then walked to Piazzale degli Uffizi.
When I arrived I found myself faced with a sensational sight that completely took my breath away, I was astonished by such beauty.
Stepping on the haphazard paved flooring, I realized that I was in a scenographic and unitary space that conveyed a sense of beauty to anyone who admired it, I almost wanted to touch it with my hand.
<< The space is enhanced by the factory loggia which develops seamlessly, is equipped with stone benches and acts as a telescope to frame the Arno on one side while on the other side the mighty mass of Palazzo Vecchio stands out with his tower >> Gerd explained to me.
Outside the Uffizi I saw the twenty-eight marble statues depicting illustrious Tuscans of the past, placed in the niches of the pillars of the portico.
Made in the mid-nineteenth century by the greatest sculptors of the time, they welcomed visitors who went to the Piazzale.
<< In the corner closest to via della Ninna, the long side to the east, there is the nineteenth-century entrance to the museum, between the two statues of Lorenzo and Cosimo de' Medici, corresponding to what remains of the hall of San Pier Scheraggio >>Gerd, who looked like a tour guide of the city, explained it to me.
Looking around I couldn't help but notice the presence of many street artists, the vast majority of them painters.
We arrived at the museum and when it was time to enter we encountered a long queue however we skipped it as Gerd worked there.
<< You should know that the Uffizi palace is made up of two main longitudinal buildings connected towards the south by a completely similar shorter side.
I won't bore you with long and boring descriptions, but the architraved portico that we passed through is one of the main architectural features of the museum >> said Gerd, guiding me to discover the building.
Once inside we first encountered the archaeological room, then those dedicated to the Middle Ages and the early Renaissance, finally we reached the Botticelli room.
Before then I had only read about it in books and when I was there I was enraptured by the master's masterpieces, there were many of his most famous works.
Once I entered the room I started looking around, without realizing it I broke away from Gerd and found myself in front of the "Birth of Venus" and there I saw it.
Next to me was a beautiful girl with long blonde hair, smooth as silk and blue eyes, as clear as the pristine sea, mother nature had given her such white lips that it left me dumbfounded.
Venus had come out of the portrait and approached me, driven by the Zephyr wind, she was moving lightly, almost floating in the air in all her grace and unparalleled beauty.
My God how beautiful she was! The painting certainly but she surpassed it in grace and mastery, the Almighty had wanted to demonstrate to Botticelli that he knew how to do better and he had succeeded.
I had a feeling of total emptiness and I didn't know what to do, should I stay there and contemplate her or could I approach her?
I remembered what my father said about the first meeting with my mother but only then did I fully understand his words.
I took a few side steps towards her and in a few seconds I found myself next to that splendid Venus, I was immediately pervaded by a life-giving energy and a sort of driving force of nature pushed me to touch her hand.
It was an absolutely instinctive gesture but I immediately withdrew, I understood that I was not worthy of her and yet I couldn't help but be close to her.
<< Here you are, I looked for you everywhere but I see that you are not alone. Hi Sofia, how are you? >> said Gerd in English, making me return to ordinary mortals;
<< I'm fine, what about you? You didn't come to work today. Why do you speak English if you know Italian? >> replied the girl;
<< Meet my friend Wolfgang, he doesn't speak Italian and it doesn't seem right to keep him in the dark about the conversation.
He works at the Belvedere in Vienna, he is a colleague with whom I studied at the Academy. I act as his guide while he is in the city and in the meantime I try to teach him a few words of Italian >> added Gerd;
<< Very nice to meet you, I'm Sofia >> she replied in English.
He stretched out his hand towards me, I didn't know if I was worthy of touching the skin and flesh of that goddess but Gerd pushed me, urging me to do something.
<< I'm Wolfgang, very pleased >> I stammered panting, delicately squeezing her fingers;
<< We're going now, he recently arrived in Florence so I want to show him the city. See you tomorrow at work >> concluded Gerd, taking me by the arm.
When we were far enough away he burst into thunderous laughter, leaving me dumbfounded, I didn't understand the reason for so much hilarity.
<< Apparently my friend Wolfgang has had love at first sight >> said Gerd, unable to keep from laughing;
<< What? Are you by any chance crazy! Don't talk nonsense >> I scolded him, still stunned by the meeting with Sofia;
<< I saw how you looked at her and your face is red, you look like a pepper. If you want I'll introduce it to you >>.
I didn't answer because I didn't know what to say, on the one hand I was ashamed to reveal my feelings on the other I ardently wanted to see her again.
<< Not... >> I started to say when I realized that Gerd had disappeared leaving me alone in front of "Spring", another masterpiece by Botticelli.
Not knowing the museum, I decided to wait for him there so I started looking at the painting in which nine characters were arranged in a rhythmically balanced and symmetrical composition around the central pivot of a woman wearing a red and green drape over a silky dress.
The setting was a shady grove that formed a sort of semi-dome of orange trees full of fruit and shrubs against the background of a blue sky.
A spring pervaded my soul, the shrubs in the painting invaded my heart, taking root, giving birth to fruits filled with the pulp of love.
Their taste was very sweet, not even the nectar of the Olympians could have surpassed that intoxicating flavor.
The work perfectly depicted the season we were in as spring had arrived in Florence bringing with it a sweet warmth.
I looked at the painting for a while, perhaps half an hour or more, and as I did so I thought back to the meeting I had had with Sofia shortly before.
I saw the scene again in my head, each person in that memory generated their own sinuous and loose pose combined with calibrated gestures and ideally perfect profiles.
That memory was dominated by an expertly calibrated rhythm and formal balance where the harmonic swaying of the figures, guaranteeing the unity of the representation, could be defined as musical.
In that memory, more similar to a dream, I could see an undeniable ideal beauty and a harmony brought about by nature which, in modeling Sofia, had preferentially resorted to drawing and contour lines.
<
Gerd returned to me, reappearing just as he had vanished, a strange smile of satisfaction was painted on his face that left me uneasy.
<
<< I went to talk to Sofia >>;
<< Don't tell me that... >> I rebuked him, realizing what he had done;
<< This evening we will go out as a threesome. You're new in town and you don't know anyone except me so you need to make new friends >>;
<< You really shouldn't have >>;
<< Don't do that, you should thank me. I'm doing you a big favor but now let's go home, I want to rest before our evening outing >>.
I wanted to say something to him but deep down it was what I wanted and he was my landlord so I let it go but a strange thrill began to press through me, an unusual tension began to build inside me.
Back in the apartment we had a quick lunch then Gerd went to lie down while I called home reassuring my parents and updating them on my health.
My mother was very angry and worried but my father was strangely satisfied with me and this surprised me quite a bit.
<< Dear son, it was time for me to go out into the world. Enjoy Florence, you will return when you deem it most appropriate >> he told me.
Once the call ended I went to lie down, I tried to rest but worn out by anxiety I didn't close my eyes and I couldn't get Sofia's light and penetrating scent out of my mind.
Finally the evening came and it was time to go out, for the occasion I wore the same suit given to me by my father for my first day of work at the Belvedere, it was the best I owned and I had brought it in case of important appointments.
<< How elegant we are >> Gerd mocked me;
"Shut up."
I went to the bathroom to comb my hair, polished my mustache and finally we went out to a nice restaurant located right next to Ponte Vecchio, not far from where Gerd, a friend of the owner, lived.
When we arrived Sofia wasn't there, at first I thought she was going to stand us up so I started to get nervous, walking back and forth non-stop.
<
After a few minutes I saw her emerge from behind a corner and I will never be able to forget that vision, so celestial that it seemed like a dream.
She wore a long black dinner dress with her hair pinned up, held together with a bobby pin while her lips were highlighted with a hint of purple lipstick.
Both Botticelli in "The Birth of Venus" and the Almighty with Sofia had used a harmonious and delicate technique to create their respective goddesses.
Both had very elegant contours and created, with their movements and the flow of their clothes, a sensation of perfection that would leave anyone who looked at them stunned.
<
<> he told me showing off impeccable English;
<
<< Now that we have completed the pleasantries we can go and sit down, I'm hungry as hell >> concluded Gerd.
He knew the restaurant like the back of his hand, he was evidently a regular customer and had managed to get the best table reserved from which we could see the Arno flowing placidly beneath us.
We sat down and the atmosphere was made even more magical by the light of the street lamps that came in from outside to illuminate the room, creating a very suggestive, at times mystical, play of soft shadows.
We were about to order when Gerd suddenly stood up from the table with a distorted face, he looked like he had seen a ghost.
<
<< You must excuse me but I have to leave you, I just remembered that my mother is about to arrive in town and I really have to go and get her.
I'm really careless, I hope you don't mind if I leave you alone, on the other hand you both speak English well so you won't have difficulty conversing >>.
He pushed aside the chair and called the waiter telling him that there would be two of us, after which he said goodbye to Sofia but before leaving he approached me furtively.
<< Don't worry old man, it's on me >> he whispered in my ear.
At that moment I understood that there was no mother coming, he had done it on purpose to leave me alone with Sofia and in retrospect I will never stop repaying him.
Once there were two of us, we were initially embarrassed, however, little by little, the situation thawed and we had a nice evening.
I discovered that she was born and raised in the Bellosguardo district of Florence where she had studied at the Academy of Fine Arts, her parents were famous art dealers so she had that passion in her blood, exactly like myself.
<
<< So let's toast to the art that flows in our veins >>.
Once we finished dinner we took a walk on the Ponte Vecchio in a suggestive setting and in the end he accompanied me back to Gerd's apartment, unlike myself he knew the city like the back of his hand so he accompanied me.
<< I had a very good time this evening. Since I'm staying in the city for a while, how about giving me a tour of Florence? You're local and I'm sure you'd be better than Gerd as a tour guide >> I proposed;
<< In this period I usually take holidays during which I dedicate myself to photography, it will mean that I will make a change of plans. See you down here tomorrow morning at eight o'clock sharp >>.
When I got home I found Gerd waiting for me on the sofa and once I closed the door behind him he jumped on me like a dog with a bone.
<
When I had finished I saw a certain satisfaction appear on his face as if it were only his merit, now that I think about it he wasn't entirely wrong.
<< Do you already know where you are going? >>;
<
<< Surprise appointment, well done my Wolfgang. Now rest, tomorrow you must be strong >> he said giving me an energetic tap on the shoulder.
The next day I woke up well before eight, Gerd was still asleep so I did it slowly so as not to wake him, in this way I would have avoided being subjected to another interrogation.
As soon as I left the building I found Sofia waiting for me, she was less elegant than the night before but perhaps even more fascinating.
He carried with him a beautiful wicker basket covered with a red and white checkered tablecloth that hid its contents.
He had his camera around his neck and at first glance it appeared to be quite professional, given its size.
<< Are you ready for a tour of Florence? >>;
<< After you miss >>.
That was one of the most beautiful days of my entire life, nothing and no one will be able to erase the joy I felt from my mind.
The first stop was the " Boboli Gardens ", a historic park in Florence among the most famous and well-known in the city.
<< The gardens were built between the 16th and 19th centuries, by the Medici, the Habsburg-Lorraine and the Savoys, they have a vaguely triangular configuration with steep slopes and two almost perpendicular axes that intersect near the Neptune Fountain which stands out on the panorama.
Starting from the central paths of the axes, a series of terraces, avenues and paths develop, perspective views with statues, paths, clearings etc ... >> explained Sofia.
It was a splendid place and the sun that lit up our faces that morning made it more spectacular than normal.
We spent about an hour or two there then moved on to the "Parco delle Cascine", the largest public park in Florence whose tree-lined avenue was stunning.
Since it was almost lunch time we decided to stop next to one of the " peafowl " found inside the park.
Sofia placed the basket on the table, taking out some of what I discovered were the typical products of her city.
<< This is called "finocchiona" and if you are in Florence you can't help but try it, but this other one is called "zuccotto" which I'm crazy about >>.
We talked about this and that but unlike the previous evening there was no need to break the ice, it seemed like we had known each other for a lifetime.
<
<< I don't know, I'm not very good, it's a passion that I tend to keep to myself >> she replied, blushing on her cheeks;
<< You don't have to worry about this, rather tell me, what are your favorite subjects? >>;
<< Without a doubt the people, in particular I really like to portray street artists while they are busy painting.
Their expressions emanate a strange magnetism, when they paint they enter into symbiosis with their work and this is precisely what I try to capture in my photographs >>.
As she talked about it, her tone of voice changed and became more acute and decisive. For her, photography was much more than a passion.
The last stop of our journey was "Piazzale Michelangelo" where we arrived late in the afternoon, just in time to enjoy the sunset leaning on the copy of Michelangelo's "David" which dominated the place.
<< This is the most famous observation point of the city panorama, anyone who comes to Florence must necessarily stop there otherwise you cannot say you have seen the city.
Here we have a saying that goes: "Florence is small... and seen from the square, it looks like a little girl, dressed for carnival" >> he explained to me.
He took the camera, placed it on the staircase and positioned himself next to me to take a souvenir photo, something we had already done before.
<
<< I agree >> I replied shyly;
<< That's enough for today, now I'll take you back to Gerd. Tomorrow I will show you other places in the city, if that's okay with you >>;
<< Sure, let's go >>.
When we returned home we said goodbye and agreed to meet the next day and once inside the apartment I found it empty.
I saw a note on the table and to my great relief I discovered that Gerd had gone out on a romantic date so I would be alone in the house all evening.
I was really relieved, I loved my friend very much and I was grateful for the hospitality he gave me but at times he tended to be too intrusive and I didn't like it at all and I was very tired and didn't want another interrogation.
I lay down on the sofa trying to recover from the long walks I had done during the day, I wasn't even hungry but just as I was about to fall asleep I heard the apartment doorbell ring.
I got up rather annoyed, sure it was someone looking for Gerd, maybe one of his many girls was Sofia instead.
<
<< Sorry to bring you here without warning but I wanted to let you know in person >>;
<
<< I received a call from Venice. I obtained a prestigious position at the Palazzo Ducale >>;
<< I'm happy for you but... >> I tried to reply but I felt there was something else;
<< They want me there tomorrow morning so I'm afraid we won't see each other again. I came by to say hello>> she said, punching me in the stomach.
I looked at her for a moment without saying a word, until a moment before I was in seventh heaven knowing that the next day I would see her again but instead I was about to lose her.
<< I offer you my congratulations. Goodbye >> were the only words I managed to say to her.
I wanted to hug her but I just couldn't so I limited myself to making a happy grimace on my face and then I closed the door without giving her a chance to reply so I went and lay down on the sofa, overwhelmed by bitterness.
I was in the grip of total desperation, I thought I had found those emotions that my father had told me about, but instead it was just a splendid illusion.
First I stretched out on the sofa but it was all useless then I headed to the cupboard where I found some whiskey that Gerd kept there for special occasions.
I poured some into a glass and downed it in one gulp but had to spit it out immediately because it was so strong.
I wasn't used to alcohol but I didn't see any other way to vent my frustration.
I forced myself to drink it at any cost and in the end I drained the bottle, it was the first and only time I got drunk, one of the stupidest things I've ever done.
The alcohol immediately got to my brain, dulling my senses, my legs felt limp and I struggled to reach the sofa.
I started talking nonsense and once I lay down I don't remember much else, maybe I fainted and when Gerd came home he found me there, all smelly and unconscious.
When I woke up my head hurt, it felt like I had a bass drum instead of a brain and the smell of coffee gave me a strong urge to vomit.
<
I just had time to reach the toilet where I threw back all the whiskey I had ingested the previous evening.
When I had finished I joined Gerd in the kitchen who was waiting for me sitting at the table with a rather worried and annoyed face.
<< I heard about Sofia, I'm very sorry >>;
<
<
<
<
<
<< Get yourself cleaned up and get dressed, let's go to Venice! >> he ordered with a fierce look;
<
<< Move or I'll slam my fists again >> he threatened sternly;
<
<< Then hurry up >>.
I got up slouching, I was still shaken from the previous evening and with desperation in my heart I headed to the bathroom, I looked like a corpse that had just emerged from the grave.
I looked at myself in the mirror and the light above reflected my tired green eyes inherited from my mother.
The only thing I could see in it was the bitterness at having lost the woman of my life. With what energy would I be able to return to Vienna?
I had only known her for a short time and yet the emotions I felt when I saw her for the first time made me understand that I wanted to be alone with her.
I closed my eyes remembering the moment I saw her and I understood that it was love at first sight, love at first sight.
Cupid had followed me subtly inside the Uffizi, shooting his arrow as soon as my gaze fell on Sofia.
Only those who experience such a sensation are able to understand me and now that I think about it I consider myself lucky because only a select few are allowed to experience similar feelings.
When I saw her, a great void opened under my feet as if the Earth was about to swallow me and my head started to spin.
I felt lost in the world like a child who loses his parents and no longer knows how to find them again.
In my mind I retraced the moments in which my eyes had encountered his presence, oh what a splendid divine miracle.
I didn't want to leave the bathroom anymore, maybe the memory of him was enough for me, but then I heard Gerd banging his fists violently on the door.
<< Come on, hurry up, we have to go! >>.
I left the bathroom still full of desperation and together we headed to the train station, ready to set off and…
I suddenly came out of my memories thanks to Simurg , without realizing it I was crying and he, as a faithful squire, was drying my tears with his long tail.
That sizzle had brought me back to the present where my green eyes had now faded, the illness had taken away their color, light and life and yet Sofia was still with me.
I heard her breathing on the walkie talkie and this consoled me, I didn't know what time it was and yet the heat was getting stronger, Apollo was probably about to go back to the office.
Who knows where Gerd was, I hadn't heard from him for a while but I was sure he was fine because he was an adventurer and was happy in the world, among its difficulties.