Questione di Costanza
Verona is not my city. And paleopathology is not my profession.
Yet, here I am. How could this happen, to me of all people?
My name is Costanza Macallè and on the plane that is taking me from Sicily to the city in Veneto where my sister, Antonietta, already lives, I am not traveling alone.
With me is the being I care for most in the world, sixteen kilos of delight and torment that answer to the name of Flora. My daughter is my whole world, partly because it’s just me and her-I know, I know, but it’s a complicated story.
However, I can do it: after all, I only have to endure one year. That’s the length of the contract with the Institute of Paleopathology in Verona, and I – who specialized in Pathological Anatomy and wanted to do everything but dig up old bones, spider ancient braids and analyze centenarian remains – have to adapt, waiting to find my dream job in England.
But, as always, life has other plans for me. So, as I try to settle into this foggy, freezing Verona winter, I must also resign myself to the fact that there are choices I have been putting off for too long. And the time has come to make them.
After all, what does it take? It is a matter of courage, it is a matter of resourcefulness — and, I always tell myself, it is a matter of Constancy.