Episode VI: ABC Diario
A new beginning is always an opportunity and a challenge: as in any special moment, it is important to be surrounded by the things that fill our souls.
More than ants, an anthill. It is the night of the first Sunday of March and you do not even have to close your eyes to feel that intense hustle in your belly, as in the fable of the cicada and the ants. They walk from here to there. You know well that you can't have bugs in there but you feel them and although it looks like the tiny fear that the horror movies give you as you watch them while your parents are distracted, you also like it (just like with the movies). Tomorrow classes start and it's hard for you to sleep, but you're still too young to calculate how much sleep you lose with each minute that passes or to worry about your physical performance the next day: you have the energy of a batteries brand rabbit that keep on walking and walking and walking. You think: will this year's teacher be good? What days will the gym class be? Will there be a new classmate? And although you wonder if you have not forgotten in the summer the lyrics of the national anthem (dont't worry: for some mysterious reason, when the music starts, the lyrics come out by themselves) you also know that the worst thing would be to feel naked in front of everyone in the open playground, where they raise the flag when the weather is still nice. As a soldier prepared for the mission, or a clown who demands a red nose to go on stage, you need your own ammunition to feel safe: in the new backpack that your mother gave you, the one with a carabiner to hook the keys and do not lose them again, there's the notebook still empty for the first day, the blue silicone cartridge, the pens with gel ink in ten colors and the calculator with interchangeable color keys (when your dad gave it to you, he said something that gave you a little fear: "This year you're going to have to do math counts"). You look sideways at the clock on the table and you see there are still eight hours left until you have to get up. You should be calm: everything is in the backpack. But the anteater in the belly is more active than ever and although the minutes pass quickly you know that your last night of vacation is going to be a long night.