Vista from the #63

Somebody asked me very gently to publish the following writing in our blog, and that I am doing:



"Dear Dornaggio, I was there the other day, inside the bus #63, I mean, and I saw you on your bike, with your blue helmet on. You were smiling, I must say, and I felt jealous for a moment, because you seemed to posses a truth that none of us, people in the bus, could even guess. For a moment I was scared for you... There was an instant when the bus made a strange movement and I thought something was going to happen to you... but you had to turn right and disappeared from my sight. I felt relieved. You looked so fragile... I do not know if anybody else noticed you, but that is what I do, that is what I am good at: noticing things. I do not like the tube, I would not be able to ride a bike... I like to sit down by the window, in the top floor of one of the old style buses, and look quietly how things happen, how things change, slightly, slowly, from one day to another. Through the window of one of those red colossus with wheels, where I feel warm and secure, I looked at you the other day. Who knows if next time you will be as joyful as then, who knows if there will be a next time at all... I just know that that day I was a lilttle happier thanks to you."