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Happy together. But maybe miracles only happen when you are children. Yet Lord, let it not be true, You can... 

Perhaps only now I understood how great my love was for them. Mary, I appreciated and understood you more than you can imagine. You helped me, I tried to help you. Maybe you better be dead too. It would have been difficult to continue without him because - although he often spoke of death - he was strength and life and attracted life and strength.

"May I? It's late, paronsina. Can I get you something to eat?" 

"No thanks, Gigia." 

"You know, I'm so sorry too, they were so very good. But you should try hard to eat something, or else the sorrow weakens you." 

"Don't worry, Gigia. See, I'm calm now. I'd just like to be alone."

Alone? They say that you are never alone when you have memories. I got up, went to my desk, turned over his last long letter from Nairobi in my hands. I smiled: since Mondadori probably fired him because he didn't win the Nobel Prize, he proposed to me "to write a story together in the best way a story has ever been written. I already have the story in mind."

Together. But you know what they said today is true, we will not do anything more together, partner. If we can't do anything more together, well I, Black Horse, will try to run alone. For both of us, partner. As soon as the wounds don't bleed as much. For both of us I will write a story, not the one you couldn't tell me, but ours...

Difficult story, ours. How to talk about your love so true and so strong and at the same time so delicate and discreet? How to explain the transformation of your face every time you saw me arrive and I, seeing you happy I was happy for you and at the same time a little scared and I always tried...