A sudden, violent clap of thunder, a jump in my chair, and the pasta falls on my trousers, staining them. Instinct takes over and I rescue the mouthful, but the stain is there. I smile.
It was 2010, an early summer day. It had rained until shortly before; outside, the air was finally cool and the mugginess was gone. Inside the house it was still heavy, almost unbreathable, and I badly needed to unplug. I put on my jacket, grabbed my phone and rushed out. I glanced at the garage, but the bike didn't seem like the right choice that day. So I walked. Town or countryside? I needed quiet: countryside. I turned left and headed out, away from town. The sun came and went between the white clouds, still strong enough to be felt. I put in my earphones and started my music - "Nuvole di Luce" by Cacciapaglia, right for the weather and for my mood.
The climb up to the river was short but steep, the grass still wet, the ground muddy. "Let's see if it's swollen", I thought, after all that water. When I got to the top I saw that it had risen, yes, but not by much. The breeze was pleasant, so I kept going along the embankment. I walked for about an hour without looking back. My thoughts travelled with the air, and the sun warmed my skin, reminding me it was summer.
Then I heard a threatening sound: thunder. I turned sharply and saw the clouds gathering behind me. I headed back, at least as far as somewhere I could take shelter. I had my umbrella with me, but those storms were never light ones, and an umbrella was almost useless against them. Halfway there, it started to rain. I opened it and came down off the embankment, closer to the main road. My phone rang: it was my father. Still worked up, I answered and told him what was going on. We both laughed, and got lost in conversation for a few minutes.
A sudden light. I froze. It came from the tree about twenty metres away. It spread across the grass, towards me, towards everything green around me. I felt the energy rise from my feet, my hair standing up, every muscle locking, holding me still. It lasted an instant, and it was gone with the crash of thunder. I stood there for a few more seconds while my father, on the other end, kept saying my name. "I've just seen lightning, twenty metres from me. I felt it, on me. I'm wearing rubber soles, but I felt it. I'm fine." He went quiet for a while, then started talking again as if nothing had happened, and I started walking again.
As soon as I got home I took off all my soaking clothes. And only then, leaning against the sofa, still dripping, did I start to shake.
I look at the stain and smile again. This time, at least, it was only pasta.
