Photo by Othman Alghanmi on UnsplashI was driving. Thinking. Listening to music. Resetting my mind. Left and right, haze, flatland and cultivated fields. I watched the road markings follow one another, all identical, in time with the prog-rock I was listening to. Hypnotic. They seemed to do it on purpose. I smiled. Suddenly, the mix changed, and one of Ivan Graziani's masterpieces began to play. And my smile faded. When I was a teenager, I regarded him with suspicion. He had been born a few k...
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