A feather over Turin

It’s been a while now that I’ve been on duty at the entrance of the Sermig. Everyone who comes into the Arsenal passes by here: volunteers, people in need looking for help, young people who want to give a hand; like it or not, they must go through that door. The bizarre episodes that have happened over the years are so many that I tend to forget them. The whole world passes by here, so the experiences are completely varied, and every day you can go through every emotion known to humankind.

On August 24th, a woman calls me and says: “Good morning, I would like to donate a nice duvet, there is just one problem: the duvet is torn and feathers are coming out.” I don’t know if it has ever happened to you, but sometimes time seems to stop, as if giving you the chance to find the right way to answer a certain question. I admit I stayed silent for what felt like endless moments. Embarrassed, I stutter something like: “Yes ma’am… it could be very useful, but if there was a possibility to patch that hole, it would be better.” On the other end of the phone, I think I caused the same feeling: the lady took a while to understand how to continue the conversation. After a few more endless moments, she tells me: “Because I thought of this: I have a house and it’s annoying to see feathers flying around, while someone living on the street doesn’t have that problem. The feathers fly away and they don’t bother anyone!” My silence becomes eternal again and I start hallucinating, imagining the feather from Forrest Gump floating through Turin. I won’t tell you how the phone call ended, but I want to leave you with a question: what would you have answered?


NP August-September 2025
Andrea Go