He opened his eyes and looked around. The sun was shining and a ray of light illuminated him as he shook his head. He did not recognize anything from the room; nor the chairs or the flowers over the table at his left side, neither the same bed he was lying in.
- Where am I – he said out loud – I cannot remember…
He jumped off the bed and walked across the room. It was completely different from everything he had ever seen. The decoration… the organization of the space… it was all strange, but strange in a good way. He gazed through the window and he felt happy to see his hometown; his Florence. Nevertheless, the city seemed to be different too.
He got out of the room and ran along the hallway, looking for anybody who could give him some answers. Finally he saw a young woman and his heart beat fast.
- Excuse me, Miss – he said with his eyes opened wide – Where am I? Who am I, in fact? I cannot remember. My memories are unclear!
The young woman looked at him tenderly and said:
- Your name is Michelangelo Buonarroti and you are one of the greatest art masters of history. You are here because you made a deal with God, who, in exchange of all the beauty you left in the world, offered you to come back for one day to your native Florence, to be a guest of the best hotel in town.
- And so, what is its name? – asked Michelangelo, stunned.
- Il Salviatino, of course.
And that is the story of a miraculous happening. The story of how Mr. Buonarroti came back to life for one day and delighted Il Salviatino’s crew with its presence.
