At the Window

Translation Notice

This article is a work of fiction originally written in Italian. It has been automatically translated to English using an AI tool. The rhythmic and narrative qualities may differ from the original.

The seagulls were flying lower. A stupid detail, yet seeing them roaming through the city streets was the clearest sign of change. Not the absence of people, or cars; I got used to that after a few hours. It was life reclaiming its spaces, indifferent to the problems of the human race, that underlined the novelty. I watched from up here as cats, pigeons and mice moved undisturbed. At times I even had the impression they were playing. Is that possible? Maybe yes, after all what's stopping them, humans no longer show themselves. Only on Saturdays, when they decide to go grocery shopping all together and meter by meter reclaim the street: because you can't crowd inside the supermarket, it would be a risk. But yesterday no, the scene was different. She was standing on the sidewalk, wearing a mask. He was sitting on a scooter, not far away, often looking at his phone. He scrolled through some social network, occasionally showing her the screen, with his arm extended to maintain distance. She smiled. Her cheekbones rose and her eyes crinkled: from this I guessed her smile. Just a few minutes of distanced intimacy and they were already saying goodbye, no contact. I would have liked to reassure them, tell them they will hug again, but I can't. From this window on the world, I am only allowed to observe. So I watch my daughter, who after so much crying has returned to smile.