110: Silences and champions

15 June 2020

People around me don’t talk that much.
Pierluigi was reserved, as I already told you. He created me silently, the only sounds I could hear were the rustling of the fabrics while I was getting a new shape.

The man from the North didn’t talk that much either. He was shy, introverted; in the depth of his blue eyes, the icy Swedish winter – strengthening him since his early childhood – lied. Anyway, his presence was not passive at all. His tall, handsome body emanated waves of energy. Even when he didn’t wave a tennis racket, you had the impression that his muscles tried to stretch out, ploughing through the air with warrior smacks.

We were beautiful, we still are. I wanted to look brighter just for him: a discreet button arrangement, a colored collar, quadrangular patches on the chest and on the shoulder.

When I’m inside of my shrine I am surrounded by silence, but at those times, when he used to wear me, something exploded all around us. The stadium, the supporters’ hearts, the fans screaming: what happened? How different is the world from the outside! Especially fast, because when the champion and I were together, we always ran, sweating and moving from one point to another of the playground. An only skin, the continuous research of a goal. We often won, we won almost all the time. And when it happened, I see those melancholy eyes wide open, turning sweat and scars into a happy face. His body darted once more when it came to celebrate, sliding on Wimbledon’s grass to transform into a free scream. Huh, Wimbledon. What an experience. An incredible one. If a girl like me can be allowed to have some little regret, well, I would say I would have loved to visit London in a better way. How could I? Everytime we tried to leave the stadium trying to reach the city, our taxi attracted the fans’ attention. Screams, chants, waving arms. All my fibers used to tense up, it was my attempt to protect him. At least I tried. Silence wasn’t wrapping me anymore: the noise from the crowd filled the space, by claiming his name. Björn, Björn.


Born in Biella in the foothills of the ltalian Alps, WONNIE is a ski-loving white bear. Because he is from the snow­covered Alps, he is vulnerable to hot weather, and despite his size he has timid personality so he is always blushing. WONNIE is a gentle bear with heart of gold who easily find faults with himself even with small things but never blames others.