It is Thursday night. We are in the underground. R is sitting across from me. On the other side of the car, there is a girl, teeager, perhaps, ready for a night out. Some makeup (as much as one can see around the FFP2 mask), styled hair, shiny fingernails, big earrings, perfume. R is stealing glances at her. And I am looking at him, looking at her and I am smiling behind my mask, thinking that that age is getting closer every day. He is not a child any longer. Then R looks at me and signals to come closer. I do. Even closer! OK. He leans forward and whispers:
“You see that girl over there? At her feet there’s a one Euro coin. I hope she gets off soon so that I can pick it up.”

Image by Michela Ghisetti