Italy, April 3, 2020. It’s late. The lights in the houses are breaking the night’s darkness tonight more than usual. A few windows are open, many shutters are up, it’s strange to see the city so empty and silent.
Originally published by The Plague and the Fire. Translated by Enough 14.
The only cars that are passing by are those police or carabinieri looking for Quacksalber.
But there’s no one on the streets, they’re all in those apartments in the buildings that look taller and more suffocating than usual tonight. With the heat that advances in this spring night to appease the widespread insomnia, of sleeplessness, is difficult, netflix is not enough, so many people are facing those lit windows, whether the need is to smoke a cigarette, take a breath of air or both does not change the attitude of the eye to fall inevitably towards the street with the vain hope of finding something, someone, but for some time there, in the street, not much happens.
It’s just us.
Four dark figures wandering around in this city of balcony-eyes.
In this scenario, it is almost impossible to just hang some posters up and write some slogans on a wall.
Every step echoes and the slightest noise is amplified in the silence of this empty night.
So it happens that every time we take the paste, a brush or posters out of the bags some window opens, every wall good for a sign is guarded by at least a couple of insomniacs and at every engine noise or blue light we have to run and hide.
We run through nearly the whole neighborhood like this, between an escape and a hiding place but without being able to reach the location of our target.
From above, you can hear a whisper that immediately turns into a scream: “Go home! It’s your fault when everything continues until the 8th of May!”
In exasperation, we cannot help but give in to the consolation of responding to insults.
Maybe this person tipped off the cops, maybe someone more discreet had done it before, it would be easy to spot us. We estimate that the tension, especially ours, is getting a little too much, so we decide to go back inside.
We were able to leave a few messages behind.
Signs of coloured rebellion that break a bit of the grey monotony of these days spent mostly segregated at home or in a line in front of a supermarket.
Tomorrow, precisely for this reason, with a few more precautions we will try again, it will surely be better!
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