When I moved from Melbourne to Italy I was faced with a difficult decision: take my cat Ombra with me, submitting her to a gruelling 26-hour flight and forcing her to live in a flat, or entrust her to my dear friends who offered to give Ombra love, care and a huge garden with trees and sheds and bush. It was one of the most difficult decisions I had to make, but I knew that it was right to put aside my selfish love and to allow Ombra to live her feline life. (I will never thank you enough for welcoming her)
A micro narration in a minute or so.

TRANSCRIPT:
I want to go back. I want to be in the garden, winter and summer; I miss running outside, and the constant excitement of my senses, even when asleep. Those smells, the sound of the creatures crawling in the grass, and the tiny birds, I really enjoyed watching them being scared of me, and bringing them home, for her, as a present, she always screamed with pride by seeing them. I want to climb up trees, on the roof, I want to surprise her, hiding behind the gate and jumping out when she comes home from work. Not any more, not since she moved into a flat. Now I spend my days underneath the table, contemplating some peculiar games of light, reflected on the red brick wall.