I can't remember the name, probably I never knew it. Every now and then, his mother would take him to sunbathe on the terrace of the courtyard; they say the sun is good for the bones... we were just a bunch of little rascals with scraped knees, what did we care about him? Then his mother would throw him over her shoulders, legs between her breasts and his head on her back, bending down as if he were a rag... I don't remember what illness he had... sometimes, straining, he would lift his head and look at us... we were just a bunch of little rascals... Una sedia a ruote - Trapezio 1976 - Renato Zero