All In Mid-August

Summer, week of Mid-August.
All in mid-August
Two women, two different stories.
A few hours before leaving, she was still working, sitting at her desk, in the studio she owned. Trizia checked the time: it was late and she didn't want to miss the plane. He had made reservations at the spa hotel and he could already see himself immersing himself in the regenerating thermal waters in his elegant modeled swimsuit. He needed to take some time off. She swung her head as if to ward off the weariness; he saved his job and turned off the computer. Meanwhile he blamed himself. She was exaggerating, she was always busy at work, but she harbored ambition. She was a perfectionist and never gave up.
"Now go alone, I cannot accompany you anymore" so her mother pointed to her, with a thin pale hand, the entrance, and she entered, in the garden, into the intricate labyrinth of tall yew hedges. He winced and opened his eyes. He returned to reality in the blinding light. The crazed heart was beating in the temples. He felt faint. Her mother spoke to her only in exceptional cases. Lying on the blue sea bed, Emiliana was dozing in the sun on the attic terrace of her attic apartment located in San Ruffillo.