I do not know how to begin. The excitement I pierce his fingers and makes it difficult to scroll through letters.
Anxiety. Restlessness. Frenzy. Fear, perhaps. Joy. A lot of joy.
not often that your thoughts, hopes and, yes, let's call a spade, dreams materialize before you.
I waited for this meeting and expectations, you know, sooner or later you give a damn. In fact, you damn often.
But sometimes life, or maybe the case, you wonder. And I like to believe that it was written somewhere in the plots that the fate weaves.
And everything is as you had imagined. He is perfect: the accent (which makes you realize that three words), so that slices of gesture, the old style clothes, the unexpected kindness and patience, the jokes, the things he says. Looks like the script of a film. Yet it is so real.
you stand there stunned, trying to capture the nuances in the tone of voice, only to realize that the translator is all wrong, that the questions are so obvious, that perhaps you could give her the answers You both know it well.
A smile that never seems to end, a few words, but what you are wearing.
I-Hi, nice to meet u
He-Hi, nice to meet u.
I-My name is Valentina
Him-Yeah.
(He picks up the book I brought. Chosen carefully, because he knows that for me is that book. Or that the book is him. And that the book speaks to me-you I know, me and millions of other people. But now I'm here in front of him with Durbans a smile on your face, or not?)
He-This is an old book.
I nod.
-It Was He read a lot of times ...
I smile and I think I blush. I signed the old book. Looks into my eyes and I hope I do not want to let go.
I-Thank u very much (in typical Italian style)
Him-It's my favorite.
Even my, penso.Sorrido, I thank him again.
See u soon, Jonathan Coe.
