Every drop of salt that splashes down to wet my face, I pick it up and look for the colours of a memory or a living story in it, and in the meantime ...

I join the fishermen and still jump around like a leapfrog, waiting for the years to tire my legs, my breath and my hips and: how much longer will the tail of a youth that is already waving at me from the window last?

Giampaolo Talani
from THE CASTLE OF SAND, 2003