The room is small and music is playing on the radio. They are standing by the window from where the last glimpses of sunset come in. They are quiet, they cannot find common words to justify a dialogue. Little by little they forget a particular way of seeing the universe and they become more themselves, more alone; they lose the shared faith and the fragile mythologies that had become intertwined with one another. They discover that even in the most wonderful, most magical moments shared, there were mistakes. They discover that nothing was ever perfect. They fail to accept that they themselves could have contributed to the occurrence of the error, of the fallacy: it was always the other one who deceived us, the one who screwed up our destiny. Together in the almost dark room they avoid looking at each other, the closeness of their bodies bothers them. The music continues to play, alien, on the radio. He knows that music and he likes it. Like someone who wants to avoid the collapse of empires already abandoned by their kings, they say something like: “I like that song”, or “what a beautiful song”. She tries to celebrate the attempt by trying a smile but it is impossible, she has crossed a river that is invadable for him and has definitely moved away. As if saying goodbye to something that she has loved very much and will never see again, she says: “not me” while taking timid steps she separates herself even more from him to become a beautiful little dove that rises gently from the earth and sadly he launches himself to fly through darkened horizons until he is lost, in the distance, where the sun has died.