Sorry if the english is not so good. This text was written in italian and automatically translated. I hope you get the same feelings as the italian readers
SCENE 1
The afternoon light barely filtered through the closed blinds. A slanted beam illuminated a small portion of the wooden floor, reflecting off the edges of a half-open cardboard box. Inside, clothes were piled up haphazardly: half-folded T-shirts, rolled-up jeans, a few sweaters.
The house was deafeningly silent as Mario and Lara busied themselves retrieving clothes and other items from the closets and drawers.
Mario lifted another pair of shirts from the dresser and placed them in the box without really looking at them. His hands were steady, his movements measured; he tried to remain cold, but inside, he felt an increasingly tight knot. Behind him, Lara was staring at the wall, arms crossed, her long hair cascading down her back like a golden waterfall. Her face was faintly streaked with tears.
The silence was tense, thick with unspoken words.
"Are you taking the photos, too?" she asked softly, without turning around.
Mario sighed quietly. "No, those can stay here if you want. This is our room. The study is small, I wouldn't have much space to put things, and I don't want to take too much."
"As you prefer." Lara's voice was barely a whisper. Then she turned slowly, her green eyes rimmed with exhaustion and sadness. "I never thought we'd get to this point."
He stopped, resting his hands on the edge of the box. He wanted to tell her that he had never thought so either. That they had dreamed of this house together, imagining it as a refuge from the world, away from their families' expectations. Built piece by piece, choosing each piece of furniture, every decoration, just months ago. But now words had become traps: every sentence seemed to hold an implicit accusation or unbearable sadness.
