It happens that you are one of the three, four most famous Italians on the planet. Indeed no, not more famous, More recognizable let's say. That if you walk in the middle of a crowd in any city in the world a good part of that crowd is sure that it will turn its neck, its eyes, and then it will tell whoever is nearby But did you see who that is!
This in the world. In your city, however, the capital of your country, there is no sentient being who does not know you, indeed, who does not worship you. Setting foot outside the house means removing all eyes, interrupting conversations, stopping traffic. Impossible.
The only way you could cause even more havoc, and steal the gaze of that one specimen out of millions who may have forgotten who you are, the only way would be to take your wife with you. Very famous too - not like you, of course - and beautiful. Together you would be blinding. Unthinkable that you are allowed the freedom to take just two steps. Forget it. If you are Francesco Totti and she Ilary Blasi, a walk through Rome is science fiction.
But here's what happens. The coronavirus. The lockdown. The desert. The surreal emptiness. The masks. In other words: science fiction, precisely.
Still, the Pupone he had even announced it, to the advantage of the crowd of paparazzi ready to follow him as soon as he gets out of the house: "When it is allowed - he said - I will take advantage of the few tourists to visit the center of Rome again".
No sooner said than done! It is the text of his Instagram post, proof of success. A I told you so that makes the jaws drop. A surreal shot. Which is immediately viral.
Francesco and Ilary stroll along via del Corso - Via del Corso! not recognized! Pure science fiction! - and then off to the Pantheon, up to the Trevi Fountain. And standing there posing, black masks and cap, take a selfie in front of the water, like mere mortals. Here is perhaps the point. Of the matter. Of the virus. The fact that it makes you unexpectedly common. And deadly. Even if you are a god.
