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happily towards the bus that was waiting for me under a lamppost of the space used as a station.

As if I were in a trance I sat down on a seat, still feeling his touch.

His perfume had stayed on my hands: the road ran quickly by, I closed my eyes and breathed him in from the palms of my hands.

7.

The Scarlet Notebook

Perhaps a part of me would have liked Filippo to discover my relationship with Pietro.

I wanted to wound his indifference, reduce it to shreds, and respond with facts to his constant offensive statements when he said that I was worth nothing, to see even one emotion scrape his face.

Thinking about what I was doing made me feel sick, I recognized that I was a two-timer, but looking at the thing from my point of view, I could no longer help but seek a little appreciation.

With a bitter smile, I remembered when I accompanied my father to the conversations with my teachers and, after listening to the praises they

wove about me, he invariably concluded by advising them to ask more from me. I justified the embarrassment and disappointment of never receiving any praise with the conviction that in doing so I was driven to do better and better. And instead I realize that all this desire for recognition comes, perhaps, from the lack that I had experienced until then.