Justluberto

I move my leg, take a step... another... and suddenly, I’m not wobbling as much. It’s not perfect, but I’m walking!

“I can do it!” I exclaim happily. I look up and see him grinning from ear to ear, as if he’s witnessed a miracle.

“Not bad, kid!” he says with a sparkle in his eye, reaching out his hand to me. “Nice to meet you. Alberto Scorfano.”

I place my hand in his. “I’m Luca Paguro.”

“Piacere, Girolamo Trombetta!” He smirks like a showoff.

“Why are you squeezing my hand so hard?”

“That’s a human thing—I’m an expert.”

“What does what you said mean?” But instead of answering, Alberto hugs me and takes me with him. “Come, I’ll show you more things.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

We climb to the top of the tower, and I fall silent, taking in the place. It’s full of things I’ve never seen before. Alberto explains what they are—broken clocks, glass bottles, cups, pots... There are lots of metal and wooden pieces scattered everywhere. It’s a mess... but somehow the chaos fits him. It’s like an extension of his personality.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

An hour later, we’re building the Vespa. We’ve already put the base together and are about to attach a wheel. With every part we add, the excitement inside me grows. There’s something magical about taking all these loose pieces of wood and metal and turning them into something that already means more to us than just a Vespa. It’s like every piece brings us one step closer to the freedom we’ve been dreaming of.

Alberto, always buzzing with energy, infects me with his enthusiasm. It doesn’t matter that the parts don’t fit perfectly or the wheels wobble a bit—what matters is that, with our own hands, we’re building our dream. And right now, all the fear and warnings from my parents disappear. It’s just the two of us, two friends, creating something together, ready to launch ourselves into the world.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

I glance toward the window, where bubbles swirl gently in the water. My mind drifts back to the Vespa, to Alberto, and his world of freedom. My life underwater has never felt so small. After being on the surface, it’s like something inside me cracked. The sea has always been my home, but now it feels too polished, too closed in. It’s like the water is no longer enough to hold everything I want to experience.

I know my parents think the human world is full of danger, but it’s not what they imagine. Up there, everything is different—there’s noise, light, movement… things I never felt in the depths. Every time the sun warms my skin and I breathe in the salty air, I feel a kind of freedom I never imagined.

But at the same time, I feel the weight of guilt pressing on me. They taught me I’m supposed to stay in the sea—that it’s where I belong. I can see the worry in their eyes. Now, the ocean feels like a prison, not a refuge. Its silence, which used to soothe me, now drowns me. I know I should feel safe here, among my own kind… but I can’t stop thinking about what’s waiting for me on the surface.

Those small human objects—they’re more than just junk to me. They’re proof that there’s something beyond the waves. Something I need to discover. And then there’s Alberto. He’s everything I’m not—fearless, rebellious. For him, the world above is his for the taking, no doubts, no rules. And I envy that. When I’m with him, anything feels possible.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

He doesn’t have a home like mine. He lives alone in that tower, with no one waiting for him, no one to protect him. And even though he pretends not to care, I can see it in his eyes—I think he’s found something in me that goes beyond adventure. I think I’m the closest thing to family he’s had in a long time. And that scares me. Because while I’m stuck between two worlds, he has already left his behind. He has nothing to go back to. His freedom—the thing I admire so much—also condemns him to a loneliness I don’t want for myself. And that’s where my life splits.

And I start to wonder: is it possible to have both? Can I be the son my family wants me to be and still discover what lies beyond the sea? I don’t know.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

In the distance, I glimpse Alberto standing next to our makeshift Vespa, a bright smile lighting up his face. His eyes sparkle with enthusiasm as he examines every piece of our vehicle, drumming his fingers impatiently on the handlebars. The Vespa, though rickety, stands there like a tangible promise of a great adventure.

He says it with a confidence I don’t quite understand, like nothing in the world scares him. I watch him for a moment—Alberto is brave. He doesn’t seem afraid of taking risks that, for me, are unthinkable. I envy the way he lives without fear, as if every day were a chance for something exciting. “You built it with me,” he continues, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t you want to try it? It’ll be like flying.”

As Alberto climbs out of the water, pieces of our Vespa floating around him, I feel something shift inside me. Until that moment, the fear of failure had paralyzed me. I’d always seen mistakes as something to avoid—dangerous, with serious consequences. But Alberto, with his easy laugh and his complete disregard for what just happened, has shown me another way to see the world. What if the Vespa didn’t work this time? So what? It’s all part of the adventure. For the first time, I realize that mistakes aren’t something to fear—they’re part of the path to something greater. And as I watch Alberto raise his arms in victory, I know I have to move forward—not just with him, but with this new way of facing my fears.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

There we are: two new friends, and nothing else matters. Partners in crime, like the fox and the cat, two trustworthy pals.

When we’re done, we stand back to admire our creation. It’s not perfect, and it probably won’t survive another ride down the hill—but we don’t care. I realize we’ve made more than a machine: we’ve made a statement. That we’re ready to keep going, to launch into the unknown, to face whatever comes next—together.

Alberto’s laughter rings in my ears like a familiar melody, and I know it doesn’t matter what challenges lie ahead or how many times we’ll have to try again—there will always be a way to build and rebuild our dreams. Alberto is everything I’m not: bold, daring. And when I’m with him, I don’t feel as afraid. In fact, he makes my parents’ warnings seem distant—easy to ignore. He gives me a kind of confidence I never have underwater, where everything is uncertain and my parents always try to protect me. With him, anything seems possible. His presence shows me a different kind of freedom, and when I return to the sea, it feels like I’ve left part of myself behind in his tower—full of gadgets and human secrets.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

After that adventure, we climb to the top of the tower, where the air is cooler and the world seems even bigger. We sit at the edge, our legs dangling into the void, and look up. The sky is dark now, but filled with tiny, twinkling lights.

“What are those little lights?” I ask, intrigued.

He follows my gaze, stays silent for a moment, then says, very sure of himself: “They’re anchovies. They sleep up there.”

I’m confused.

Then I see him pointing at a bigger one, one that looks like it’s watching over the others. “That one there,” he continues, “is a bigger fish. It protects them. I touched it once.”

I watch him, fascinated—I don’t know if he’s joking or if, in his world, anything is truly possible. “Your life is so much more exciting than mine,” I say, a little envious. “I’ve never traveled, never really seen the world. I only dream of it.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Alberto glances at me with a smile that never fades. “You already traveled all the way here,” he says, as if genuinely happy for me.

“Yeah, but it was with your help. If it hadn’t been for you, I never would’ve discovered this world,” I admit, sincerely grateful. We fall silent for a moment, both staring out at the horizon. The lights of the human town glow in the distance, warm and mysterious.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Before falling asleep, I let myself sink into a sweet sense of peace. I know tomorrow will bring new challenges, but tonight… tonight is ours. Tonight is enough to know that I am exactly where I'm meant to be.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

“Oh no! I fell asleep!” My words echo into the night. My mind fills with images of my mother and father, worried, searching for me everywhere. They would never understand this pull toward the world above, nor the urge that pushes me to return to the surface. But right now, all I can feel is panic. Alberto is still asleep, his breathing deep and calm. I look at his relaxed expression and am surprised at how easily he surrenders to dreams, as if tomorrow doesn’t exist. I feel grateful for having met him, but I also remember that my life up here is a secret I must protect.

I begin to climb down the tower, hurrying my steps. As I run toward the water, the early morning chill clears my mind. When I reach the edge of the sea, I stop for a moment, taking one last look at the tower. Then I dive into the cold water to return home. Despite my rush, I feel a bit of the courage Alberto has taught me. I know that tomorrow I’ll return to the surface, and I know that even though fear will always be there, it will get easier and easier to silence it.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

From the universe, a restless curiosity has awakened within me. She speaks of knowledge and endless journey, where every answer is a step towards another question. The possibility to explore, to learn, to expand my horizons is both exciting and terrifying at the same time. I feel as if a door has opened within me to something hidden, something that goes beyond what my parents taught me about the sea, the limits of our world, and the caution towards humans. The desire to know, to discover that world that Giulia shows me, has ignited a spark in me that I cannot ignore. Even though I feel this strange and foreign longing, I cannot stop.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

My excitement swells like a tide, and I feel a tug inside me – as if two parts of me are pulling in different directions: one still longing for the simple life Alberto and I planned, and another wanting to discover more, feeling there's so much to explore on the surface.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

I didn't have to transform to feel like a monster – I already did. Alberto stands there, completely vulnerable, his true self exposed, waiting for me, his best friend, to stand by him. But I don't. Instead, I betray him with my words, denying him in front of Giulia and everything we've been through together. 

The image of his hurt, vulnerable face repeats over and over in my mind. Giulia remains motionless, still clutching the stick, her eyes fixed on the horizon as if waiting for an explanation I cannot give. Everything around us seems frozen. The bright sunlight reflecting on the water intensifies the surreal feeling that envelops me, as if the world were split between the clarity of day and the darkness of my actions.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

I move my leg, take a step... another... and suddenly, I’m not wobbling as much. It’s not perfect, but I’m walking!

“I can do it!” I exclaim happily. I look up and see him grinning from ear to ear, as if he’s witnessed a miracle.

“Not bad, kid!” he says with a sparkle in his eye, reaching out his hand to me. “Nice to meet you. Alberto Scorfano.”

I place my hand in his. “I’m Luca Paguro.”

“Piacere, Girolamo Trombetta!” He smirks like a showoff.

“Why are you squeezing my hand so hard?”

“That’s a human thing—I’m an expert.”

“What does what you said mean?” But instead of answering, Alberto hugs me and takes me with him. “Come, I’ll show you more things.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

We climb to the top of the tower, and I fall silent, taking in the place. It’s full of things I’ve never seen before. Alberto explains what they are—broken clocks, glass bottles, cups, pots... There are lots of metal and wooden pieces scattered everywhere. It’s a mess... but somehow the chaos fits him. It’s like an extension of his personality.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

An hour later, we’re building the Vespa. We’ve already put the base together and are about to attach a wheel. With every part we add, the excitement inside me grows. There’s something magical about taking all these loose pieces of wood and metal and turning them into something that already means more to us than just a Vespa. It’s like every piece brings us one step closer to the freedom we’ve been dreaming of.

Alberto, always buzzing with energy, infects me with his enthusiasm. It doesn’t matter that the parts don’t fit perfectly or the wheels wobble a bit—what matters is that, with our own hands, we’re building our dream. And right now, all the fear and warnings from my parents disappear. It’s just the two of us, two friends, creating something together, ready to launch ourselves into the world.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

I glance toward the window, where bubbles swirl gently in the water. My mind drifts back to the Vespa, to Alberto, and his world of freedom. My life underwater has never felt so small. After being on the surface, it’s like something inside me cracked. The sea has always been my home, but now it feels too polished, too closed in. It’s like the water is no longer enough to hold everything I want to experience.

I know my parents think the human world is full of danger, but it’s not what they imagine. Up there, everything is different—there’s noise, light, movement… things I never felt in the depths. Every time the sun warms my skin and I breathe in the salty air, I feel a kind of freedom I never imagined.

But at the same time, I feel the weight of guilt pressing on me. They taught me I’m supposed to stay in the sea—that it’s where I belong. I can see the worry in their eyes. Now, the ocean feels like a prison, not a refuge. Its silence, which used to soothe me, now drowns me. I know I should feel safe here, among my own kind… but I can’t stop thinking about what’s waiting for me on the surface.

Those small human objects—they’re more than just junk to me. They’re proof that there’s something beyond the waves. Something I need to discover. And then there’s Alberto. He’s everything I’m not—fearless, rebellious. For him, the world above is his for the taking, no doubts, no rules. And I envy that. When I’m with him, anything feels possible.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

He doesn’t have a home like mine. He lives alone in that tower, with no one waiting for him, no one to protect him. And even though he pretends not to care, I can see it in his eyes—I think he’s found something in me that goes beyond adventure. I think I’m the closest thing to family he’s had in a long time. And that scares me. Because while I’m stuck between two worlds, he has already left his behind. He has nothing to go back to. His freedom—the thing I admire so much—also condemns him to a loneliness I don’t want for myself. And that’s where my life splits.

And I start to wonder: is it possible to have both? Can I be the son my family wants me to be and still discover what lies beyond the sea? I don’t know.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

In the distance, I glimpse Alberto standing next to our makeshift Vespa, a bright smile lighting up his face. His eyes sparkle with enthusiasm as he examines every piece of our vehicle, drumming his fingers impatiently on the handlebars. The Vespa, though rickety, stands there like a tangible promise of a great adventure.

He says it with a confidence I don’t quite understand, like nothing in the world scares him. I watch him for a moment—Alberto is brave. He doesn’t seem afraid of taking risks that, for me, are unthinkable. I envy the way he lives without fear, as if every day were a chance for something exciting. “You built it with me,” he continues, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t you want to try it? It’ll be like flying.”

As Alberto climbs out of the water, pieces of our Vespa floating around him, I feel something shift inside me. Until that moment, the fear of failure had paralyzed me. I’d always seen mistakes as something to avoid—dangerous, with serious consequences. But Alberto, with his easy laugh and his complete disregard for what just happened, has shown me another way to see the world. What if the Vespa didn’t work this time? So what? It’s all part of the adventure. For the first time, I realize that mistakes aren’t something to fear—they’re part of the path to something greater. And as I watch Alberto raise his arms in victory, I know I have to move forward—not just with him, but with this new way of facing my fears.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

There we are: two new friends, and nothing else matters. Partners in crime, like the fox and the cat, two trustworthy pals.

When we’re done, we stand back to admire our creation. It’s not perfect, and it probably won’t survive another ride down the hill—but we don’t care. I realize we’ve made more than a machine: we’ve made a statement. That we’re ready to keep going, to launch into the unknown, to face whatever comes next—together.

Alberto’s laughter rings in my ears like a familiar melody, and I know it doesn’t matter what challenges lie ahead or how many times we’ll have to try again—there will always be a way to build and rebuild our dreams. Alberto is everything I’m not: bold, daring. And when I’m with him, I don’t feel as afraid. In fact, he makes my parents’ warnings seem distant—easy to ignore. He gives me a kind of confidence I never have underwater, where everything is uncertain and my parents always try to protect me. With him, anything seems possible. His presence shows me a different kind of freedom, and when I return to the sea, it feels like I’ve left part of myself behind in his tower—full of gadgets and human secrets.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

After that adventure, we climb to the top of the tower, where the air is cooler and the world seems even bigger. We sit at the edge, our legs dangling into the void, and look up. The sky is dark now, but filled with tiny, twinkling lights.

“What are those little lights?” I ask, intrigued.

He follows my gaze, stays silent for a moment, then says, very sure of himself: “They’re anchovies. They sleep up there.”

I’m confused.

Then I see him pointing at a bigger one, one that looks like it’s watching over the others. “That one there,” he continues, “is a bigger fish. It protects them. I touched it once.”

I watch him, fascinated—I don’t know if he’s joking or if, in his world, anything is truly possible. “Your life is so much more exciting than mine,” I say, a little envious. “I’ve never traveled, never really seen the world. I only dream of it.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Alberto glances at me with a smile that never fades. “You already traveled all the way here,” he says, as if genuinely happy for me.

“Yeah, but it was with your help. If it hadn’t been for you, I never would’ve discovered this world,” I admit, sincerely grateful. We fall silent for a moment, both staring out at the horizon. The lights of the human town glow in the distance, warm and mysterious.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Before falling asleep, I let myself sink into a sweet sense of peace. I know tomorrow will bring new challenges, but tonight… tonight is ours. Tonight is enough to know that I am exactly where I'm meant to be.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

“Oh no! I fell asleep!” My words echo into the night. My mind fills with images of my mother and father, worried, searching for me everywhere. They would never understand this pull toward the world above, nor the urge that pushes me to return to the surface. But right now, all I can feel is panic. Alberto is still asleep, his breathing deep and calm. I look at his relaxed expression and am surprised at how easily he surrenders to dreams, as if tomorrow doesn’t exist. I feel grateful for having met him, but I also remember that my life up here is a secret I must protect.

I begin to climb down the tower, hurrying my steps. As I run toward the water, the early morning chill clears my mind. When I reach the edge of the sea, I stop for a moment, taking one last look at the tower. Then I dive into the cold water to return home. Despite my rush, I feel a bit of the courage Alberto has taught me. I know that tomorrow I’ll return to the surface, and I know that even though fear will always be there, it will get easier and easier to silence it.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

From the universe, a restless curiosity has awakened within me. She speaks of knowledge and endless journey, where every answer is a step towards another question. The possibility to explore, to learn, to expand my horizons is both exciting and terrifying at the same time. I feel as if a door has opened within me to something hidden, something that goes beyond what my parents taught me about the sea, the limits of our world, and the caution towards humans. The desire to know, to discover that world that Giulia shows me, has ignited a spark in me that I cannot ignore. Even though I feel this strange and foreign longing, I cannot stop.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

My excitement swells like a tide, and I feel a tug inside me – as if two parts of me are pulling in different directions: one still longing for the simple life Alberto and I planned, and another wanting to discover more, feeling there's so much to explore on the surface.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

I didn't have to transform to feel like a monster – I already did. Alberto stands there, completely vulnerable, his true self exposed, waiting for me, his best friend, to stand by him. But I don't. Instead, I betray him with my words, denying him in front of Giulia and everything we've been through together. 

The image of his hurt, vulnerable face repeats over and over in my mind. Giulia remains motionless, still clutching the stick, her eyes fixed on the horizon as if waiting for an explanation I cannot give. Everything around us seems frozen. The bright sunlight reflecting on the water intensifies the surreal feeling that envelops me, as if the world were split between the clarity of day and the darkness of my actions.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞