Start

There’s this place.

 It has nothing special in an absolute way and maybe it is not special for this story either. However, every story has its beginning and this place seems, to me, the perfect beginning.

It is not a magical place, for this is not going to be a magical story.

Where is it? This is not important either.

You see, it’s the place itself that means something, with no particular connection with what it is surrounded by.

Imagine it as an island then, or as the top of a tower impossible to climb.

Again, it is not important. What really matters is the fact I have been in this place.

 Not alone, and this is even more relevant. Because who lived with me in this place contributed  to part of the story that is emerging.

Ties of kinship, friendship and love have been shared here for several years.

There have been laughs, there have been tears. Projects, dreams and tales.

Does it sound common? Do you find it familiar?

Good. For this place and everything that ever existed in it are nothing more than a grain of common life. The perfect start for a good story.

Now this place is changing. In such a profound way  that it will soon been forced to leave this story, never to come back. It fulfilled its destiny, gathered all the memories and ideas necessary to make the pen move and said goodbye to all the characters.

I, nothing more than a humble messenger of the story itself, say goodbye to this place, for the story has to commence.

Lots of you out there have done the same. Some of you have already written their story and others are still working on it.

However, all of us share the same destiny:  the strong believing that our story is not worth being told.

Maybe we are right, maybe not. Maybe we will never meet any Lilliputian and will never get lost in search of legendary treasures.

But we are here, all of us, and maybe it is not worth keeping in our hearts the regret not to have told ourselves.

It could all be banal, sure;  but, what if you are wrong?

I leave, starting this story, but I would really like you to accompany me, with your thoughts, with your experiences.

Each one of us can have a son which maybe won’t be the next Einstein; but this is not a good reason not to live such an experience and keep going on. Being happy, too.

Why shouldn’t we have a story then? All together.

Who knows, perhaps it will turn out to be something special.

And even if it won’t, it will surely be funny being so many, so different, never known, though part of the same story.

Le.D.