suddenly, leaving all the cars and motorcycles that were next to him in the front line of traffic behind.

Little by little, as they traveled the winding road that led to the summit, an ever vaster panorama appeared before their eyes. On the one side was the limitless sea as far as the eye could reach; on the other, Palermo with its labyrinth of streets, piazzas and, here and there, green spots that were parks. The springtime light outlined the contours of everything and allowed one to clearly make out the city's main monuments, the ones that had seen the rule of great civilizations and that preserved the treasures of each. After every curve, they seemed to draw a little closer to the blue sky that blurred into the waters of the sea at the horizon. Marco thought of his brother, who used to go to Monte Pellegrino often to contemplate the beauty and the profundity of the world, and to free his thoughts and feel at peace with the universe.

During the entire ascent, Marco and the girl with the red hair did not speak a word, enchanted by the magic of the landscape and by the swift wind