than that to see were the men, excited, sweaty, thirsty for death in order to win their bets. This is how it must have been at the Colosseum, when the Romans made gladiators fight to the death."
"So you didn't like the cockfight?"
"I found it interesting from a folklore point of view, but you liked it no, I really wouldn't say it. Look... how pretty he is!" I said pointing to a tiny bird that had alighted on the opposite side of the pool. "Let's hope a cat doesn't come."
Papa also turned his head to look at the bird. "Our cats disdain even mice. They find the home service more convenient, at the tower."
"He will meet other enemies, in the sky. Too bad that in such a beautiful world there must always be struggle, struggle and death. But let's not think about it now. Now I am completely happy."
"I am too. So much so that I almost wish for death."
"What nonsense are you talking about, Papa?!"
"You know I'm stupid, Daughter. You've always known that."
"When are we going out on the Pilar?"
"Tomorrow. Tomorrow the wind will be good."
"The sea here reminds me of Capri. The same intense blue. You immediately want to paint. But it is not easy to reproduce this type of blue. Did I already tell you that in Capri I earned the first money of my life by painting?"
"No. Tell me."
"After my father's death, Mom didn't want to stay in Venice and so we went to spend a winter in Capri, in Aunt Emma's house. Capri had been transformed into a huge rest-camp for American troops. Around Christmas I did some Christmas-cards and I sold them to Americans like hot-cakes, do you say that?"
"They say so."
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