There are some buried feelings within us, that the thousand daily tasks to free us from. There are compressed springs, in a secret box, in which guard these feelings: they are the memories of our childhood, when they jump out of a few buttons creeping memory. These are the joys that only children can try, that boundless joy, which makes them wonder about the little things. And then, we do not know how and do not know why at some point there has been a decisive turning point, so we left it all behind (or in!) And all those joys, smells and all those fairy tales seem to vanish like a bubble of sapone.salentino.