Florence is a lady.
very fine and noble.
it's a fine young lady on high heels that after a short espresso on the bar (she never sits, she has no time, and she will ever never drink a latte macchiato),
she sits on her motorbike press the gas pedal with strong awareness and confidence and loudly make her way through the very old and narrow streets and disappear around the curve.
but you can never forget her.
you will run after her, but it's a labyrinth.
again and again you find yourself in front of the duomo and the sound of her motorbike comes from the other side of the duomo.
you can ask people in the street if they saw her. they will laugh and will be kind.
they will serve you great pasta and risoto and will sell you shoes. good italian shoes.
but they won't tell you the truth about her.
every woman in the street will look like her from behind. but the minute she turns the magic turns and it's not her anymore.
tired and exhausted you come to the river. young couples buy wedding rings and make romantic photos with the backround of sunset and the hills of tuscany.
you just want to jump to the water and let them carry you.
the evening lights play with you. for a minute you think you saw her, but no, it's your wife (what does she do here in my dream!?? we need a bigger bed!)
you enter the nice shops around, and the mirror play seek and hide with you.
the night fall.
so you look after the black magic.
an old witch make some enchanted dispensary for you.
and she looks in the stars for you.
and fly.
but before the witch disappear, you hear her wisper:
look in her historyyyyy....
so you start following the remains of her history.
you learn that she is the daughter of kings and nobles.
she is the daughter of an ancient dynasty.
you go through the corridors of her past.
where her grand-grand-grand-parents slept and prayed and lived their life.
and you are fascinated and excited because you feel that she is so far away but so close to you,
that you can almost touch her...
but then the time ran out.
and you find yourself again in the place where it all began.
and the morning came.
and the motorbike stands still.
and she's gone again.
and you know that you'll have to wait another 27 years till you see her again.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental...
