VOGUE (Italy) - - L'UOMO - By Mar­co Mis­si­ro­li

L’uo­mo, the man, has a pair of bi­no­cu­lars trai­ned on him in the apart­ment block op­po­si­te. He star­ted doing this af­ter it be­ca­me im­pos­si­ble for him to pho­ne him. For so­me ti­me, his son had been re­fu­sing to speak to him. Then he chan­ged ci­ty. The man had con­tac­ted his son’s mo­ther, the wo­man with whom he had brought him in­to the world. She is mu­ch youn­ger than him. She had been mer­ci­ful and told him that their boy had mar­ried and mo­ved to Mi­lan, whe­re he wor­ked in a pa­stry shop. Whi­ch pa­stry shop? The wo­man fell si­lent, put on her coat, and be­fo­re lea­ving him at the ta­ble in the bar, she told him, “It’s on the street with the po­sh sto­res.” The man asked the yel­low pa­ges switch­board whi­ch was the street with the po­sh sto­res. He didn’t ha­ve the internet; he’s 81 years old. The ope­ra­tor in­for­med him that the street might be Via Mon­te­na­po­leo­ne. The man no­ted do­wn the street na­me, pic­ked up his bag and fil­led it with a cou­ple of rags. Then he got a ta­xi to the sta­tion, whe­re he asked a girl for so­me help and she ga­ve him a hand. The jour­ney la­sted six and a half hours. When the man ar­ri­ved, he asked a ta­xi to ta­ke him to Via Mon­te­na­po­leo­ne. He got the­re, wal­ked along the street and found th­ree pa­stry shops. He en­te­red the fir­st one and asked if Giu­lia­no Ma­la­gu­ti wor­ked the­re. At the till they re­plied that the­re was no Giu­lia­no Ma­la­gu­ti on their staff. In the se­cond pa­stry shop they told him that Giu­lia­no Ma­la­gu­ti was in the kit­chen at the back, and he couldn’t be di­stur­bed. The man wai­ted in the street un­til his son ca­me out of the pa­stry shop in the eve­ning. He fol­lo­wed him and ma­na­ged to cat­ch the sa­me bus and ta­ke a good look at him. He had put on weight, and he loo­ked over 40. He saw whe­re his son li­ved.The­re was a ho­tel near­by on the op­po­si­te si­de of the r oad.

That’s whe­re the man is now. He took a room on the four­th floor, rec­ko­ning that it was the on­ly room with a clear view of one of his son’s win­do­ws. He bought a pair of bi­no­cu­lars from a hun­ting shop in the old ci­ty cen­tre. Now he is loo­king at him, and he sees that his son’s eyes are sha­ped like his own. For this rea­son he is hap­py.

Con­vey to Giu­lia­no Ma­la­gu­ti: for this and other rea­sons, your fa­ther was hap­py.

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