buongiorno

Short days. Long nights. If I had to sleep and rise with the sun, I would be in semi-hibernation. It sets at 5pm and rises not sooner than 8am. The past few days the sky has been grey. A dull flat grey, starched and pressed. A sky so flat and grey it feels surreal. I sleep.

The sky was blue today, the sun was out. I take it as a sign. Outside looks deceptively sunny but I feel the bite of the cold less. After a very long time, morning seems like the beginning of a day. I feel likeI have a whole day ahead of me.

It's beautiful, being able to see the sunlight. This winter sunlight is orange, the dawn-dusk variety. I'm frozen in time.

Orange light on wood. I align my feet with the diagonals on Azzurra's floor. The black flowers on my socks look like shadows. Davide paces about on the wooden floor. Az and Lorenzo sit before me on the table, silhouetted, their faces glow with their macs' special soft light.

A shot of bitter espresso wakes me up. I drink it resisting the urge to dunk a brush in it. I can feel the brownness still in my mouth, it will keep me awake for a while. I look out, the shadows are getting longer. But the sun will not set today, it will abruptly become night. There are still a couple of more hours for that.