It took long hours to decide which couple was going to pay for the late afternoon ice cream. They played several hands of briscola, exchanging secret signs, smashing cards on the towel, bursting up in collective laughs and kissing. Sweet, tender, smooth, long kisses, as long as the time a wave, born under the spell of a distant storm, takes to die on a sunny sandy beach.

In Otranto, Apulia, Italy.

transition places – AIRPORTS


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