When do you feel overlooked? When do you feel undervalued?
When do you feel like one of a crowd – and are just fine with that?
What does it feel like to fly? What does the air taste like up there over the city? What do you hear from there?
On the piazza, when the world moves so slowly in front of your eyes what do you notice most? What is everyone else missing as they rush by – self-important with their takeaway coffees and bags of half-eaten bread?
Where do you hide your babies? What advice do you give them before they flutter around the old woman throwing dried peas over the trampled grass?