The first evening we met after dinner chatting in front of the fireplace of the Monte Marca refuge, the last ones left to be pampered by the crackling and warmth of the flames were Giuliana and Vincenzo.
– How comfortable it is here, in front of the lit fireplace.
– Yes a lot….,
– What are you doing?
Vincenzo asks.
– I’m reading a book, if you want I can read aloud.
– Dear, yes! I’d love to, what are you reading?
– “The girl who did not exist” by Siba Shakib. I have already read a part of it …. if you want I will summarize you …..
– Yup !!!
Vincenzo says.
Giuliana sums up:In a country, Afghanistan, where being born a woman is a curse, Samira, daughter of the brave young commander of the village, is raised as if she were a boy.
Vincenzo wants to listen.
Giuliana, start reading.
Vincenzo is never tired of listening.
Vincenzo, who cannot read paper books,he would listen to someone who would read for him over and over again. Just for him.
Like a child, to whom a fairy tale is read.
Enraptured by the voice and the story, this beautiful sharing was repeated for the other evenings.
Always and only the two of them.
Then the living room ended, but the book didn’t.
And so Giuliana read the remaining chapters and sent the recordings to Vincenzo. One night at a time.
One chapter per night.
There was no fire in the fireplace, there were a thousand kilometres to divide them, but the voice and the story continued to make Giuliana and Vincenzo feel close.
Sure, audio books have been around for a while.
But this is not the story of an audio book.
It is a voice that becomes a story.