I've recently dreamed with Alessandra. I've written a note as fast as I could before she escaped from my memory again. Before she disapeared from my life and I lost any possible sense.

It's easy to remember her name because it was the first one I've spoken lovely. I didn't like her nicknames. I liked to say it: Alessandra.

I met her in elementary school. We became close friends. She had a laugh that was lost in breathing, almost gonzo. She had agile eyes and long fingers. I loved her so much that I shared my piece of cake.

One day, she moved to another city. Convenience is not an easy word to explain to a child.

I found her ten years later. She was riding a bicycle. She passed and didn't see me. Her hair was still black and intense. She was not a girl anymore, but I recognized her easy smile and almost heard her laugh.

I´ll lose her in my memories. Maybe I cannot recognize her now if she walks in the city. Every year is a new city.

But memories as dreams are... what for? Alessandra is going away, she leaves the door open. Rain restarts and I think maybe she feels cold. But I can't remember any coat of her.

(Draw by Adriane Bertini)