The main trait of my character
The fear that the libeccio will blow my hat away
The quality I prefer in a man
The smile in the eyes when I meet his gaze seeing the confetti fall
And in a woman
The vastness of the pain coagulated in a red vein in the eyes
My best friend
A wardrobe whose key I have lost.
My main flaw
I don't know how to drive the tractor.
The last time you cried?
I'm crying
The deceased person you would bring back to life?
Ulderico Fortini
Favorite school subject?
la volvo
Favorite city?
By bike
Favorite color?
The purplish red
Favorite flower?
the one hanging on the spiderweb
Favorite bird?
The kite
Favorite dish?
Monte dei paschi di siena
Your first memory?
An African American is blowing the sax while I enter the supermarket. I see colored lights, no one speaks, I only hear a light voice suggesting something, then peanuts and candies rain down and I rejoice.
If you had one hundred million euros?
I would ask myself from whom I took them.
Favorite book?
“ganeman du pont allex” a quiz book not yet written that talks about two spiteful men who randomly ask and answer questions, to be neatly rearranged.
Prose authors?
Gauvon, pavan, de lo bordier, cuax. The best fantasy writers. Of my fantasy.
Favorite sport?
harpsichord throwing
Your favorite painters?
The kids
Song most often whistled in the shower?
“the plague of the dead man isn’t worth a diamond in the hand”
Most admired historical figure?
Antonino cioilibri, the mythical crowd ringleader who first excites the neighbors, then the neighbors of the neighbors, then riles up the whole crowd and at the end while the crowd explodes he slips to the bar and while sipping a cappuccino watches the crowd smashing each other through the glass.
And the most detested?
The woman ahead of me at the checkout. She always has a full cart, unloads it very slowly, always forgets something, tries to pass the bank card 6 times and it doesn’t work, then pays with restaurant tickets that are neither dated nor signed, then to pay the difference uses a ton of change, loses count and asks the cashier to explain what calculation she made for the difference, then apologizes, unloads the checkout even more slowly and the cashier doesn’t know where to put my things.
The natural gift you would like to have?
The ability to transform a bush into a pile of stones, then the pile of stones into a wagon-lit, the wagon-lit into a gas cylinder, the gas cylinder into a bag of swear words, the bag of swear words into a wicker basket with three envelopes inside: one that says not to open the second, the third that tells me that if I had opened the second I surely wouldn’t have opened the third, and to stay there with the magnificent taste of unsatisfiable curiosity.
The most beautiful gift you have ever received?
Two sincere little eyes looking at me and loving me.
The faults that inspire you greatest indulgence?
The involuntary stone throwings, the head swerves that push to cut off fingers.
