The story of Sergio is the story of a generation that managed to defeat the beasts and was defeated by locusts. The end of the 60s. Winter, dictatorship, in the homeland of the sun. May of '68, spring and hope, in the rest of Europe. Greek, student-immigrant, Sergio found himself studying in Europe. But at seventeen he believed that "theory is dry, brother, and the golden tree of life is only chlorophyll." Difficult times, which mean the most beautiful memories and the most beautiful celebrations. Then, at least, even though as always a minority, he experienced this attitude more painlessly as real life. You see, there were many others who refused to lick where they had spat, who refused to crawl to climb economically or socially. No, not that souls were pure back then, but, behold, faced with the darkness that would follow...
The years passed and Sergio - his black hair turning white - persisted in resisting the enormous tidal wave of rhinoceros, which swept everyone away and unexpectedly, even his closest friends. Here and there, some night flowers sprouted, some fireflies appeared, and there were new breaths, new hopes for the future youngsters who would sweep away the fake paradises, for redemption from the unbearable loneliness for him. [...]