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Through that thick smoke, wafting between the beach and the sea, spreading that acrid smell of burnt dust, I felt something touching, inside.

I have always loved fireworks, especially those that are thrown into the dark, salty air of this country every Ferragosto.

Blasts are reflected in the sea and colour it, and spray it with unpredictable light.

Something touched inside but I did not understand then and still do not grasp.

I will wait, again, for another summer.

Giampaolo Talani
from FINISTERRE, 2002.