It started with a raindrop, it continued with a second one, wetting the warm atmosphere that marked the end of summer. A blonde hair, like one of the stars that lightens our nights and hides from the sun. Said hair disguises, inside a shiny armour, that in that precise moment didn’t do its job. A chest, trained for hours while sailing with the sailors, that soon became his friends, from his first cry of a newborn. That chest was the one that, unfortunately, suffered the consequences that ended the life of the infant with the blonde hair. That young man, of seventeen years old, died for the first time, but didn’t die forever, since that would be, when someone thought of him for the last time. So let’s all think, hopeful, that the young man of golden hair is still among us, inside everyone who remember him every day, when they watch, emotional, the stars, the sea and the land.