Part 4
Part 3
Part 2
Giovanni slowly descended from the hills
following the course of a river. Summer had just begun and along the
way the scent of seasonal blooms was spreading. Every now and then
the course built large loops, in one of which he could not resist
getting off the bike to stretch and invigorate a body long clinging
to the handlebars.
After a few hours of travel in which he was often forced to stop because of the cumbersome remains of the war, he finally arrived in the plain. Consulting the old map at his disposal, he followed it heading north. The bridge over the great river had collapsed. He had to wait a long time for a ferry to be taken to the other side.
It was late in the afternoon when he managed to reach Lake Garda on the most controversial side of the conflict. He passed as quickly as possible Salò but not far away he had to answer the many questions of a roadblock. With an unconvinced look, they gave him permission to continue.
The road began to draw many curves between pine woods and rubble piled on the sides. Sometimes, men of old age who seemed to have come from the past, cluttered the whole road with their carts.
A lady led two cows, walking behind them, correcting the direction with a stick. When she hit them on the side it seemed like a caress. She seemed to be one of them walking together on the way home.
In the courtyard of a house, whose roof had partially collapsed, four children ran after each other screaming for joy while their parents, sad and disconsolate, stood and brooded over possible strategies for repairs to be made.
The sunset created a continuous mutation of lights and colors. Sometimes he felt compelled to slow down to turn back and observe the beauty of the sky.
It was almost dark when he made the decision to sleep. Near a bend there was a large open space where a small wooden chapel had been built depicting Jesus on a cross. The design was made up of valleys and mountains. Immense pine woods seemed to wrap the cross making it part of the scenery.
As he was parking and getting off the bike, his gaze lingered on that unusual image. He smiled at the vision of a Jesus, although suffering, moved to a holiday resort where, immersed in a paradise hard to imagine, he was quiet without the violence and ruins of this war.
Giovanni approached to observe him better. There was an inscription: “Protect us and all our loved ones from all danger.”
He stretched the mat a little further under a tree and sat down to eat a frugal dinner.
After a few hours of travel in which he was often forced to stop because of the cumbersome remains of the war, he finally arrived in the plain. Consulting the old map at his disposal, he followed it heading north. The bridge over the great river had collapsed. He had to wait a long time for a ferry to be taken to the other side.
It was late in the afternoon when he managed to reach Lake Garda on the most controversial side of the conflict. He passed as quickly as possible Salò but not far away he had to answer the many questions of a roadblock. With an unconvinced look, they gave him permission to continue.
The road began to draw many curves between pine woods and rubble piled on the sides. Sometimes, men of old age who seemed to have come from the past, cluttered the whole road with their carts.
A lady led two cows, walking behind them, correcting the direction with a stick. When she hit them on the side it seemed like a caress. She seemed to be one of them walking together on the way home.
In the courtyard of a house, whose roof had partially collapsed, four children ran after each other screaming for joy while their parents, sad and disconsolate, stood and brooded over possible strategies for repairs to be made.
The sunset created a continuous mutation of lights and colors. Sometimes he felt compelled to slow down to turn back and observe the beauty of the sky.
It was almost dark when he made the decision to sleep. Near a bend there was a large open space where a small wooden chapel had been built depicting Jesus on a cross. The design was made up of valleys and mountains. Immense pine woods seemed to wrap the cross making it part of the scenery.
As he was parking and getting off the bike, his gaze lingered on that unusual image. He smiled at the vision of a Jesus, although suffering, moved to a holiday resort where, immersed in a paradise hard to imagine, he was quiet without the violence and ruins of this war.
Giovanni approached to observe him better. There was an inscription: “Protect us and all our loved ones from all danger.”
He stretched the mat a little further under a tree and sat down to eat a frugal dinner.
The Travel - Incipit
Part 1
Available to be published
Fairy Tales
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Honest Deception
