His son, Matteo, had called him from Milan two nights ago. “Papà, it’s urgent. I’m stuck at the Milan train station. My wallet, my phone—stolen. I’m using a friend’s phone. Please, send the money to this account. It’s for a hotel and a train home. I’ll explain everything.”
Outside, the sun was setting on the Sile River. He pulled out his real phone, called Matteo (who answered on the second ring, confused, safe at work in Milan), and laughed for the first time all week. modulo bonifico postale
Elio sat in the post office, pen hovering over the modulo bonifico postale . The fields stared back at him: Causale (Reason for payment). He wrote: “Aiuto per mio figlio” (Help for my son). His son, Matteo, had called him from Milan two nights ago