It wasn't a poem. It was a scanned letter, handwritten in elegant cursive:
Three minutes later, a reply appeared. No text. Just an attachment: come_scoglio.pdf . come scoglio pdf
Marco had spent the last hour scrolling through an abandoned forum from 2007. The thread title was simple: “Cercasi PDF: ‘Come Scoglio’ – poesia di mio nonno.” (Looking for PDF: ‘Like a Cliff’ – my grandfather’s poem.) It wasn't a poem
(My son, don’t look for me in old files. I am here, where the sea breaks without screaming. The true cliff is not the PDF you save, but the moment you choose not to forget. I’ll wait for you on the coast, tomorrow at dawn. Dad) Just an attachment: come_scoglio
He pressed send, expecting a bounce-back.
Marco’s hands shook. He opened it.