The Spaniard waits impatiently in a bus stop of Via Venezia. She looks at her watch every thirty seconds. Her phone is dead,  without battery. She didn’t park her bike because it was supposed to be just a matter of minutes. She rubs her hands and walks. To the left, to the right. To the left. To the right. Killing the cold. Killing the time. To the left. To the right.

* * * * *

Tenth of January in Padova.

It is five and ten minutes and it is already dark.

* * * * *

Two lights appear on the horizon, at the end of the street. Two headlamps whose size increases with time. A new possibility of reunion. The Spaniard that looks impatiently at it. The phone is dead, without battery. The humid cold embraces the bones.

A green coat is visible through the people. A symmetric wave done in distance.

The Polish steps on the street.

                                                               A scarf on her neck,

                                                                                              a suitcase in her hand,

                                                                                                                             a hat in her hair.

The Spaniard that smiles and runs. The Polish that blinks twice her eyes. A hug that stops the moment.

– Welcome back to Padova, little siter.*

They start walking on the way back home. Words flow and bump ones into others. The echoes that laughs spread in the streets.

– Nine hours of trips, can you possibly imagine it?

– Come on, don’t start complaining… Year without complains, remember?

– Yeah, come on… It was just a short comment.

– We have to do the groceries, by the way.

– Pufff….. today…?

– We have absolutely nothing. And I had to choose between picking you up or going to the supermarket.

– I like to see how your priorities are clear: gossiping over shopping.

– Of course, what did you expect? E a proposito, dobbiamo parlare in italiano! L’operazione #C1Gennaio è questo giovedì!

– Oh… a che ora è il tuo esame?

– Alle… non lo so ancora… I should check it out, right?

– General updates: I bought a new computer.

– Oh and…are you finally going to the restaurant tonight? I mean… andrai a cenare alla fine questasera?

– Well… I guess I have no other option, right? – empieza a reír, emocionada por la idea.

– We do need to improve at the saying-no-thing, honey.

* * * * *

The street is almost empty. The Spaniard that pulls her bike. The Polish, with a green coat and a suitcase.

* * * * *

 – Guess who came yesterday to sleep at our place…!

– No way, I can’t believe it!! – she laughs and blinks again, two times, in two seconds, with her two eyes – and Lorenza, when is she leaving?

– Next week…

– Next week?! Are you kidding me?

– Senza scherzi, ti giuro… Oddio… questa temperatura… – quiere quejarse del frío pero la polaca la deja la frase a medias.


* * * * *

They arrive home. They leave the things. They pick up the bags. They go to Conad.

* * * * *

– Cosa è che dobbiamo comprare?

– Assolutamente tutto! Ti dico che non abbiamo propio niente.

And they walk. And they talk. And they talk. And they walk.

– What do you think if we buy… this? – the Polish  has already caught a Gorgonzzola package.

The Spaniard smiles and shrugs her shoulders.

– There are things that don’t change, do they?

* * * * *

And some bread. And some biscuits. And some fish. And half of a kilogram of plums.

* * * * *

They arrived into the cashier and leave their stuffs. The Polish starts placing them inside the bags. The Spanish helps her and pays the bill.

– You know what? You are simply adorable.

The Spaniard takes double of the time in translating the expression. She looks at her, without getting the context.

– What… what have I done?

They place the last things.

– It is just the way you are… So positive, so optimistic… I don’t know… It feels fine being around you, you know?

The Polish takes the bags and walks towards the exit. The Spaniard remains without moving. The Polish continues walking and speaking alone. She has already changed the topic. The doors of the supermarket open automatically, but she doesn’t cross them. She turns around and looks behind. The Spaniard is still motionless.

– Come on, I will be late if we don’t go quicklier!

The Spaniard comes back to the present. She walks some steps, she gets closer to the Polish and she hugs her from one side. She kisses her on the forehead. Given she is Polish, she furrows her brow because of the unexpected physical contact.

– Why was that?

She smiles.

– Nothing. It is just nice to be here again. Let’s run now, or you will be late!

* * * * *

They get out of the supermarket. The Spaniard shivers because of the cold and she puts the scarf on. The Polish opens her coat and extends her arm.

– This is so incredibly warm, Ines!

* * * * *

Tenth of January in Padova.

It is seven and a half and it is already dark.

* * * * *



                                                                                                                              in Italy.

* * * * *

– Inés –

*Cursive lines were in English in the original verison


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