Sometimes, the only realists are the dreamers.

Paul Wellstone

Who would have ever thought I was going to spend Easter here in Switzerland? Well WE, I should say: the whole world is spending it in a confinement of some sort wether they are celebrating or not…

The thing is I think I always made it home in Italy for Easter and this year is going to be a first. Right, there was that one time when we met up in Slovakia and that other time we met up in Canada, but we were together.

I actually should have been on a flight to Brindisi yesterday morning at 6:30 a.m. but of course it got cancelled. What’s more surprising is that I went through the reimboursment procedure almost without noticing it. Click after click I got a voucher and that was it. I didn’t feel sad nor angry. I didn’t feel normal either: the screen was before me, it was real but I was elsewhere, I did not feel.

What’s happening? Is it that easy to get used to this COVID-19 contaminated world?

Here I am now, one day after, sitting on a balcony in one of those chairs that you bring to the beach. Quite comfortable I would say!

The sun is shining up in the sky, it’s so strong that I cannot keep my eyes open. It doesn’t matter, I give in, I think I’ve seen it all for today. Lausanne has never been so quiet…

“Here again? I though I wouldn’t see you until tonight?”

“It just happened Morpheus! I didn’t exactly plan to visit you in the middle of the day but, well, here I am… This weather is amazing, don’t you think? Of course, don’t answer me, as usual! Morpheus? Where are you?”

Shivers on my skin distract me. I breath the perfume of cut grass that only a beautiful spring day can provide. The sun burns on my skin, the hot static sensation mixes with the cool blowing breeze. I inhale again and this time I perfectly know where I’m ending up. My surrounding takes form as I breathe, just as if it was being painted with pastel colours simultaneously.

Quiet… “Shhhhh” the wind blowing through the leaves is the only constant sound. They move synchronically as if they were playing a quiet visual melody.

The perfume of the grass is inebriating. Green, vivid and bright green. That’s the concept, there is nothing to add: a colour, a smell, a taste, a feeling. Even better: a melody caressing my skin. “Shhhhh”…

My breath takes a slow rhythm on the notes of that soft melody played by the leaves of the almond trees slowly moving in one or the other directions. I disappear to become one, my soul keeps breathing as a part of the whole.

Breath in… Breath out……. Breath in………. Breath out………… in…………..

Mmm… Cake*! Fuck! I forgot the cake in the oven!

I woke up just as I fell asleep, breathing in and out, focusing on my senses. Luckily the cake didn’t get burned and a strange and devastating thought crossed my mind: what if all this was a big social experiment?

*Pastiera Napoletana, a typical Easter dessert.


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