I really don't know, or maybe I do.
I might like it, but in a different way.
The idea of having a new date with you. An appointment, though. It's not a fact that we'll see each other there, in an instant, in the instant of a real time message.
I'm talking about a real appointment, set a few days before, in some archaic way, type of person, made in person or on a landline, in an office, in a house.
One of those appointments that are expected, that do not need to be resented, rather, re-written. See you on Friday at that time in that place.
And you wait, you think about it, without the distraction, without that distraction of that thumb on a screen going down, down, down or on a group of friends where you already know how they might respond. Just a few days.
Think about it? Just a few days.
The days no longer exist, where have the days gone? It could be one of those 50s movies where the guy always finds himself stuck on the same day. The same things, the same facts, the stories, the photos.
The same day.
There was like a booth where we always had an appointment. And every now and then I pass by, I smile at her and she seems to do the same. They still don't remove it, they removed them all, but damn, not that one. Meh.
And there, right there it was a matter of lights, cars, shop windows, streets, everything that now gets confused in the mind. I could almost count them, the cars.
Almost one by one and I played that old game with the license plates that my father taught me once in the car, a Citroen CX Pallas, returning from Cilento. City, province, region. Even though now, with new license plates it can no longer be done. And then I add the numbers, if the sum is divisible by 5 I win. Then, bye, and I had already lost.
Poster the Appointment , Ornella Vanoni / Blu The weather has changed and it is raining. _
