Erto. A silent and abandoned village, frozen in time since 9 October 1963, when a landslide from Monte Toc caused the overtopping of the Vajont dam. And yet in those houses, kitchens, barns, now only ruins attacked by ivy and nettle, something still lives.
Mauro Corona calls up the ghosts moving from house to house, along the four desert streets once filled with voices, the noises of working tools, of everyday life. A cup, a scythe, a basket, a milking bucket, half bottle of wine, for strength and oblivion. Every objects reminds the writer of an event, a tragedy, a legend, tales of love or terror, like a wind storm or a spring breeze.
This is a touching tale moving along the seasons. Souls coming back to life for a moment in time, driven by an unsatisfied thirst for life. Lost children run again in the frozen heart of Erto. The foul breath of deamons haunting the attics. The Goden Old Lady, praying a Virgin Mary with a male face, mocks those who are searching her treasure. Playing morra in the house of Solitaire: never for money, only for wine. Declarations of eternal love, pleas, curses inscribed on the walls. A vial contains the pure water of the melted body of Neve Corona Menin, the ice lady. The sound of the magic pipe is heard in the full moon nights. People, animals, plants and objects; each gets a small sparkle of life.