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What is this book for me? It is the scent, the taste of traditional balsamic vinegar of Modena. It's the smell of memories that takes me, enveloping me.
It is the mysterious twilight of the acetate, the long line of vaselli in that darkness broken only by a ray of sun where the specks of dust appear, twinkle and lazily disappear to make room for others, while the ray moves, turns red and then dark.
But here is the light of a lamp with a plate of enameled iron that diffuses a yellow, old, almost ancient glow... Beppe Zagaglia