On a visit a 2nd of November (series: notes to myself)
I came to see you to get some rest.
I thought I should share with you how things are going: some news, mostly dull, some memories, mostly old. Every new visit is a revisit of the past: some random recollections, coming as they wish, many remembrances, carefully rehearsed from our family’s well-thumbed repertoire.
It’s dark and humid inside, slightly chilly, but it is a glorious blue day you would have enjoyed, in this beautiful spot of our village. You used to call it “assolato”, when we came here together, the double consonant so much more radiant than the repeated ones in a tepid “sunny”.
It has been years since I heard your voice. This silent monologue is all that remains. For now, though. One day, we shall share much more and leave the news and memories to someone else. They will tell both of us how the world is doing, and how it used to be.
Today, it is just a visit in between, on a 2nd of November.
PS The second edition of “Notes to myself” is available as a book on Amazon:
