The woman looked at him and laughed. The stranger imitated her. "Well, what the hell are you laughing at?" he asked, turning to his wife. “Are you going out in your pajamas?” “Jeez.” He went to the bathroom and quickly rinsed his face, then went into the room and changed. “Come on,” he said to the intruder, motioning for him to follow. Then he walked towards the door, seemed to think better of it, went back to the kitchen. «I was thinking…», he said, «… if I meet someone, well, they will surely ask me who this guy is. What do I say?" “I don't know,” the woman replied.


A relative, what do they Phone Number Data know?” «Yes, it seems like an excellent idea. A relative of mine , however, you grew up here and you have everyone around you, but I come from outside.» “Okay, you're right.” He went out, followed by the other. The city greatly intrigued the stranger. He walked smiling, turning to look at anyone passing by, the cars passing by in the frenzy of traffic, the flowerbeds - the flowers particularly attracted him -, the shop windows. Everything he saw was clearly a unique experience for him. To Fulvio he gave the impression of coming from some mountain village that had remained isolated from the innovations.



Modern world, but he didn't look like one at all: he wore a bright gray jacket and trousers and black moccasins. Overall he was a well-groomed person, his expression, even if absent, was that of a cultured man. In a few minutes they reached the neighborhood police station and Fulvio asked the guard to speak to someone to make a complaint. He was shown the second floor. The two went upstairs and sat in the waiting room. A few minutes later a policeman made them sit down. “What can I help you with?” she asked him. “Here,” the man began. “This man… was in my house this morning.”