As soon as the dance became more spontaneous, his aunt grabbed him by his dangling hand and made him dance and spin around.
He strangely did not oppose that decision. For an instant, he felt the rhythm kicking into his body. He was having so much fun that his cheeks started aching because of that odd contortion of the facial muscles that he had not experienced in years.
He went from dancing in his auntie's arms into several other girls's that were intrigued and were amusingly staring at him.
After he had finished dancing with the last girl, Elio returned to his seat. He could feel his blood flow through his limbs. Suddenly, he began hearing that odd ringing his ears, which forced him to move away from the main square. That same music he had been dancing to up until a few moments ago became deafening.
He walked towards the lawn beside the church, where some old tractors were displayed. A group of children kept looking at them and running around them.
Elio sat down in a dark corner and started observing them.
All those laughs were resounding in this mind and were reminding him of an old happiness buried for a long a time.
He was jealous of a child who was happily running towards his father and grabbing his hand. When he saw that, an old memory came flooding back: the warmth and the perfume of his father's hand.
A sharp pain shot up his temple. He could not think. He grabbed his head in his hands. He was cold.
"Elio, what are you doing here all alone? Are you in pain?"
Aunt Ida, who had not lost sight of him during the entire night, sat down beside him. Elio did not reply.
Ida put her arm around his shoulders and gently held him in between her arms. But Elio could not feel the warmth of that embrace. It was cold in his world.
On the way back to the farm, Gaia could not stop talking about her amusing night and her new acquaintances.
For the first time they spent the night in the attic. They had set the bed right below the skylight so that Gaia could fall asleep watching the stars, and so did she.
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