He imagined the city of Oros to be built on a sweet slope, with beautifully colored houses, embraced by jasmine, with stone cobblestones and fountains adorned with hospitable verses to quench the traveler's thirst. With the carnival on one end of the beach full of people. And the hands of craftsmen working under the eyes of housewives, smelling of the scent of freshly cut pine and cypress. He still saw in front of him the market, with people exchanging their opinions during school hours. With their hands at heart level and with admirably mixed movements, mixed with words that do not offend any person or city, to narrate the story of the White Sea. And this story, they say, will neither be good nor bad, as it will be the story of the whole world...