Voices of those who work every day leaving home and loved ones – and then come back (if and when they can do it) with the doubt of hurting them. Small stories of an even more difficult and permeable quarantine.
I’m Mariana, I live in Sicily. In Augusta, known as the isle of palms, so an island in the Island.
I have been living with Giuseppe for five years. I would have liked to marry him, but given the times, I’m glad we didn’t plan our wedding.
He is a lawyer and for almost a month he have worked from home no longer dressed as a penguin, that is jacket and tie, but in a suit.
When I was a child I dreamed of being a surgeon when I grew up and actually I became a pharmacist.
During the first weeks of lockdown I dreamed about coronavirus.
He and I shut up in the pharmacy warehouse, obviously only he could see me.
But gradually I stopped. To dream it.
I always say that my family is a collector of experiences but this was missing. In unsuspected times, about two weeks before the lockdown, I had started reading again the Promessi Sposi. Never was a book so better suited to the time we are living. Same mistakes, same scenarios. Or nearly.
Una cosa che mi è mancata di più in questo periodo è l’odore.
Smell: that’s what I’ve missed the most in this period.
I mean the smell of people, the dearest ones. Because the mask and the plexiglass deny it. And the distance, above all. Who knows what effect it will have when I can feel it again. I don’t know.
I know very little of what awaits us tomorrow, we just have to learn.
We have to learn to be have patience and love for things and for people.
I wish me, my family, everyone to hold each other tight. To hold on and not die now. Not to die alone.
