The arrival in Rodi gives rise to sadness. When I get out of the car at the bus stop, even the cows show open disinterest and turn away.
The typical buildings of a community bear witness to life, but on the other hand they appear lonely and abandoned, creating boredom.
I wonder what the people here do, what is their purpose in life.
Those, who go to the Sunday service in the freshly whitewashed church, then discuss community affairs over a beer in the station buffet.
Do they work at the post office or the train station, as community workers at the recycling center or even as civil servants in the Casa Communale?
The parking lot at the bus stop and the railway line raise questions about the destiny and future of the place.
What remains is a destiny in which the end alone is fatal.
Aside from that single fatal inevitability of death,
all – be it joy or happiness – is nothing but freedom.
A world remains in which man is the only master
