The mysterious hitchhiker
She never left Carlo’s thoughts though, for he kept thinking about that beautiful yet ghostly face for days after he had seen her wandering alone. She was so quiet, but her silence wasn’t normal; it filled the air with absence. Carlo couldn’t tell why it happened, but every time that unique ride came back to his mind, he had goose bumps.
Intrigued by that young girl and how different she was from any other he had met, he had knew that getting his jacket back would be a perfectly reasonable motive for him to go back to that narrow street and meet her again. Carlo looker for her, but since she wasn’t there, he decided to ask about her to a neighbor. However, the old lady who lived next door told him that no such girl had ever lived or stepped into that building, and slammed the door in his face.
Even more interested with the girl’s story, and fearing to have had hallucinated, he decided to go back to the cemetery, where she had been when he first saw her. He followed her steps, and the more he walked, the more he came to notice the details of the scenario to which he was heading: the road was made of stoned with different patterns, remaining of the time of the Roman Empire. Carlo raised an eyebrow and then started walking faster, not for one minute he doubting the answer he had been looking for so avidly and which those patterns in the stones were now giving him.
He finally got to the alley, and then to the apartment. He tried the handle, and surprisingly, the door was open. Right in front of him was a wide window through which he could see the Coliseum. Content, he sighed with relief, and left.
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