Part 4
Part 3
Part 2
It was a cool morning in March. The strong
sirocco wind, flowing for the whole night, had left in the courtyard
the scent of the sea, of the waves and the purest flavors coming
from the upper layers of the atmosphere.
The day before Minichì had cleaned the garden, the courtyard and the small vegetable garden. The packets containing the seeds, to be meticulously inserted into the soil, were ready waiting for the crescent moon.
With the suit—always the same, now worn for the long years of use and a pair of old boots, he walked slowly under the porch to start the three-wheeler and go to the landfill.
He left without closing the gate and entered the street. People, seeing him passing, probably because of his mystery job, avoided meeting his gaze. Although he had lived in the same house for many years, he continued to be considered a stranger.
When someone asked him a question about his job, Minichì answered by telling him it was about traveling all over Europe to buy electronic components to sell them later to companies scattered throughout Italy.
Often the gate remained closed for a long time to show his absence. People were indifferent about it; he was a stranger—a different person from the other inhabitants of the country.
***
His mother had called him Minichì—that unusual nickname. In his solitary childhood, often, on the floor of the house, she observed him drawing with a chalk, long roads with curves and forks. It started from the last room to the front door. Sometime she paused to understand what kind of game it was, asking him the meaning of all those roads.
“One day I will go around the world”, Minichì replied, looking up with a smile. “I must prepare.”
“Round the world?” asked one day Mother with her hands on her hips. “This is a long journey!”
The child smiled, shrugging. “I know. One day I will walk the streets of the world to wipe away the tears of the people.”
Perhaps that was the moment when his Mom, moved by a unusual tenderness feeling, invented that nickname. “Minichì! Dear my little Minichì! You will have a very long way to go.”
His passion for travelling accompanied him throughout his childhood. Often Mom, not seeing him, wondered where he had gone riding his bicycle. On his return, the boy was forced to confess his escape by describing in detail the unexplored places where he had gone. Mom then looked at him shaking her head. “Minichì, Minichì, be careful! There are many dangers out there on the road.”
In his life, the transport changed but not his desire. From the bicycle moved on the bike, finally on an old car, replaced many times due to the achievement of excessive mileage.
When the time came to dedicate himself to work, he kept faith with the desire to travel, adding the passion for electronics to which he accustomed.
The day before Minichì had cleaned the garden, the courtyard and the small vegetable garden. The packets containing the seeds, to be meticulously inserted into the soil, were ready waiting for the crescent moon.
With the suit—always the same, now worn for the long years of use and a pair of old boots, he walked slowly under the porch to start the three-wheeler and go to the landfill.
He left without closing the gate and entered the street. People, seeing him passing, probably because of his mystery job, avoided meeting his gaze. Although he had lived in the same house for many years, he continued to be considered a stranger.
When someone asked him a question about his job, Minichì answered by telling him it was about traveling all over Europe to buy electronic components to sell them later to companies scattered throughout Italy.
Often the gate remained closed for a long time to show his absence. People were indifferent about it; he was a stranger—a different person from the other inhabitants of the country.
***
His mother had called him Minichì—that unusual nickname. In his solitary childhood, often, on the floor of the house, she observed him drawing with a chalk, long roads with curves and forks. It started from the last room to the front door. Sometime she paused to understand what kind of game it was, asking him the meaning of all those roads.
“One day I will go around the world”, Minichì replied, looking up with a smile. “I must prepare.”
“Round the world?” asked one day Mother with her hands on her hips. “This is a long journey!”
The child smiled, shrugging. “I know. One day I will walk the streets of the world to wipe away the tears of the people.”
Perhaps that was the moment when his Mom, moved by a unusual tenderness feeling, invented that nickname. “Minichì! Dear my little Minichì! You will have a very long way to go.”
His passion for travelling accompanied him throughout his childhood. Often Mom, not seeing him, wondered where he had gone riding his bicycle. On his return, the boy was forced to confess his escape by describing in detail the unexplored places where he had gone. Mom then looked at him shaking her head. “Minichì, Minichì, be careful! There are many dangers out there on the road.”
In his life, the transport changed but not his desire. From the bicycle moved on the bike, finally on an old car, replaced many times due to the achievement of excessive mileage.
When the time came to dedicate himself to work, he kept faith with the desire to travel, adding the passion for electronics to which he accustomed.
Training - Incipit
Minichì
Part 1
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Fairy Tales
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Minichì
