What’s inside?

When I walk, I like to observe the passers-by I meet… in that instant they are like many beautiful house facades that I don’t know.

Some of them have smiling faces while talking on their smartphones or with someone who’s standing next to them and I imagine that inside their houses are full of colored walls… a painting hanging here and there… carpets covering floors from the slightly retro taste… and the scent of lilac to make the environment welcoming and delicate, almost like a breath of fresh air, which spring brings with the first sunny days.

Other passers-by, on the other hand, walk with their heads down, the signs of disagreement appear on their faces; the furrowed foreheads and the quick step… as if they wanted to disappear in a parallel dimension, while the bodies appear bulky in the real one. Inside their homes, I see messy furniture… a shoe rack in the hallway… a dried flowers pot… white walls and an old cuckoo clock that marks that neglected time.

But you know… the image we give of ourselves, as well as the facade of a house, is only one aspect of who we really are and if we stop at the first impression… sometimes we could make a mistake.

There are old-looking buildings hiding enchanting courtyards inside… corners that only those who enter it can grasp and be amazed by their beauty.

On the contrary, modern and delightful buildings are without a soul and the only thing that is perceived inside them is the echo of one’s own voice.

I walk and observe, but this time I stop my imagination and I decide to smile at the passers-by… who knows if a frown can turn into a smile or cross another one in my turn… in the end, they’ll think I’m crazy.

But who cares… they haven’t seen my house!