What if the man with glasses asks me afterward how I even came up with the idea to show up here with nothing but ridiculous utopias? Will the lady in the black-and-white-checkered suit laugh at me? In my panic, I can already see her parting her bright red lips to release her mocking laughter.
"Prego," the man with glasses signals with a hand gesture and a quick nod, urging me to start.
I swallow.
Restlessness spreads among the audience, and the murmuring reaches me even at the front.
"What's wrong with her?" someone whispers in amusement in Italian. Soft chuckles follow.
My mind goes blank all of a sudden. Even if I wanted to show the people in this room the images in my mind, I couldn't. There are none!
"Signora, begin your presentation, please," the spokesperson of the jurors repeats, tapping his watch warningly.
Shivering all over, I turn to face him. "There is no presentation," I say in a voice so soft that I can barely hear it myself.
He raises an eyebrow.
Oh God. This is going to be a complete disaster. What was I thinking, showing up here without everything prepared?
I look at the exit, where Alessia and Camilla stand with pressed lips, showing their support with crossed fingers. All their hope rests on me. It's their future I'm fighting for, Vico's happiness.
Even if I embarrass myself in front of the audience, laying out my dreams for the estate. Even if the jury deems me crazy, and Hanna Daydreamer haunts me forever.
I have to try.
For the Olivettas.
For Vico.
Because he always believed in me and never saw my dreams as futile. On the contrary, he considers them a talent I should be proud of. What do I care about the opinions of others, when thanks to him, I've learned to appreciate the value of my unique imagination?
Until now, I've clung to the podium, but now I let go and spread my arms. "There is no presentation," I say again, this time with a resolute voice.
The jury members wear shocked expressions. "But Signora, we were expecting…" The head juror begins.
I raise my hands reassuringly. "At least not the kind you might have anticipated." With a hesitant smile, I address the audience. The elegant lady with the bright red lips gives a small smirk. "Because I am convinced that nothing I could show you on a projector would be as impressive as the images in your own imagination."
I gather the courage to step out from behind the podium and face the audience. Amid the questioning and skeptical looks, I notice some curiosity and openness. I steal a glance at Vico's sisters. They nod emphatically.
"Ladies and gentlemen, dear jurors, please close your eyes with me." The queasy feeling in my stomach persists, unsure if anyone in this room would indulge my request. Nevertheless, I lower my eyelids.
Now, all I can do is listen to what unfolds around me.
Silence spreads. A chair creaks. Someone sighs.
I direct my thoughts to the estate, imagining myself there, right at the spot behind the house where I showed Vico all the colors of my dreams. Within moments, I am transported there. I inhale the scent that the warmth of the sun coaxes from the grass and feel the gentle breeze caressing my hair. All tension melts away.
"Think of the best olive oil you have ever tasted. Remember the intense aroma on your tongue and the silky sensation in your mouth," I say to my audience, guiding their thoughts along with mine.
"Picture yourself drizzling a little oil onto a plate. Do you see the golden shimmer on the surface? How would it feel to dip white bread into the oil and savor each bite?"
The thought makes my mouth water. I taste the oil on my tongue and feel a smile forming on my lips. The image in mymind widens. It's not just the olive oil; no, I also see everything around it.
"Where are you now?" I ask, taking my audience along. "Perhaps in your garden? Under a pergola or in a pavilion? Is the sun still shining, or has the twilight settled over the land?" For me, I remain unchanged, standing behind the estate. "Crickets chirp. The wind caresses your legs. You sit at a wrought-iron table with the people who mean the world to you."
Vico appears in my thoughts. Smiling, he leans over the table, reaching for my hand.
"Life is meant to be enjoyed," I whisper longingly.
