We are afraid, afraid of not succeeding. The lightning lit the room with a blinding white, thunder, one stronger than the other, they shake the windows covered with raindrops in the wind drawing strips of water left.
We would like to get up, close them and make a hot tea, but the fear and guilt that overlook in ourselves when we give up and after trying, despite everything, there ' require sitting, our faces facing each other, legs and shoulders in tension che tremano all’unisono del boato di un tuono.
Non ce ne capiamo più niente: le cifre, quei numeri che scorriamo con il dito cercando una spiegazione logica, un nesso di causalità, una ragione, diventano irridenti geroglifici.
La lampada da tavolo ci avverte col suo tremolio dell’imminente stacco dell’energia elettrica. Si spegne definitivamente, così come l’impianto di riscaldamento. Buio squarciato dai lampi e freddo.
“Oggi dovevamo fare lo scarto quadratico medio” mi dice serissima, al buio, Giusi.
I tell her: "Do not you see, the fate suggests that hot tea is better than crazy about numbers." The gas works? "
" I think so, "replied Giuseppe doubtful. We walk in the dark groping in the hallway of the house of Giuseppe and arrive in the kitchen.
" Giusi " I say, sinking disconsolately on the chair, "had to choose their own statistical data in this holiday season? I do not know, Cultural Anthropology was not it better that it is a complementary, light light, cute little story, all theory and no numbers? Twenty pages of a book and a little 'shopping, the theory of Malinoski and a walk in the city among the lights. The brackets are destroying my brain. "
Giusi, choosing the tea bags and cinnamon, he says resignedly: "Neither tolerance, we will take 18, who cares, but at least the move along, you know how boring start the year with a brick like that? Have we so deficient, we will succeed. "
Back light, you are almost ready.
The phone rings, it is the grandmother of Giusi.
He says that in the dark after a thunder, he heard the dogs barking, all the dogs in the neighborhood, as in a choir. Reassures her and tells her to pass the exam.
Giuseppe's grandmother seems to have some insight that goes beyond the rational, dreams of things in advance and listen to the noises of the night to give answers and provide solutions. Today it happened to us.
study late, it does not rain anymore. Finally, the standard deviation is no longer a taboo.
The day after the two days after the written and oral.
Giuseppe 28, I 27. I still do not know if it was the barking of dogs, the call of the grandmother or our desire to overcome fear and not feel stupid to get us through statistical data, in that Christmas of rain and wind, a few years ago.
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