#prevost

It was well past midnight. The room was pitch-black, and the “great silence” was supposed to be observed.

But, as always, for Antonio Tagle, that rule existed somewhere far away.

— Bob… – he called out in a loud whisper. – Robert! Prevost!

Robert, lying on the bed next to him, sighed heavily in his sleep and replied in a hoarse, sleepy voice:

— Chito, go to sleep…!

— Oh! Great, so you’re not asleep, – Chito noted cheerfully, as if that were official permission to continue.

Robert groaned and pulled the blanket over his head.

— Listen, I was thinking… – Chito continued, ignoring the obvious signals. – What if one of us becomes the pontiff in the future? Can you imagine?”

— Give it a rest…

— No, seriously! – Chito propped himself up on his elbow, his eyes gleaming in the darkness. — Which one of us is better suited for it? Me or you?

Robert sat up silently on the bed. For a few seconds, he just sat there, trying to collect his thoughts. Then he stood up, walked over to Chito’s bed, calmly took the glasses off his nose, carefully set them on the nightstand, and without a word, threw a pillow in his face.

– Guerre in tutto il mondo. C'è pure il rischio di escalation tra India e Pakistan. Catastrofe umanitaria e raid a Gaza: 106 morti in 24 ore.

– Sono notizie gravissime. Massima rilevanza.

– Concordo, meritano come minimo un trafiletto a pagina 20, dopo le notizie sul nuovo Papa.