“Abbandonati a comandi” – The Quarantozzis find it wise and beneficial not to roam too far from the village, urged by the second wave of pandemic. They go back to being spectators and readers, improvised storytellers, they wonder how to grow cabbage in a flower pot, how a vaccine might work, they read apocryphal decrees, they look at screens. Fortunately, Miozzi always needs to go out.
The village gets ready for more isolation, the four newcomers, the Forrestis, don’t carry the risk of overpopulating the area, they are endowed with two dogs.
Dodging the virus goes on worldwide, and it gets more demanding also in Abruzzo, especially for the overwhelming of hospitals, for the dead.
Theories such as «we’re few, it’s not as crowded as Milan, the air is much better here, there aren’t many factories you can herd in, we’ve learned discipline from the 2009 earthquake» prove themselves delusive.
Well… but if you don’t limit infection, you don’t track positives, you haven’t set a plan for the ‘second wave’, the wave will look very much like a tsunami, even in the most marginal areas.
School goes back behind screens, together with friends, relatives, work, leisure, unemployment, politics, information, and rules to follow change month by month, week by week.
In the Autumn, the obsession seems to be next Christmas, how to spend it out of the virus’ sight.
Fair enough, consumerism, more money available from Christmas pay slips, for those who have one, give breath to many businesses struggling because of lockdowns.
And that all you need to do is purchase to ease fears and difficulties.
Riiiiiiiiiiinnng, there’s someone at the door!
«Quarantozzi, it’s the courier! Where the hell do you live? Even my GPS couldn’t find it!»
Marmalades, Christmas Spirit, plenty of nature.