It is our unique pleasure to present to you the shatteringly heartwarming story of a man that has known life and the light of the sun only when he was 33 years old. Based on a real story, The Authors.

My name is Gezu Bob, everybody that knows me calls me Gezu Bob. I say "everybody that knows me" me because I have no friends, I've never had. We were 8 brothers, out of whom I am the only one left… a rare skin disease that dramatically aggravates by exposure to sunlight has taken its toll upon us. Our parents' ignorance and poverty was such that everything was discovered too late, only after all my brothers had died, some while bathing, others while playing football, the youngest, Bobinio, while admiring some airplanes passing through the sky, they all melted like jellyfish under the sun. I say "parents" out of reflex because I've never known my father, I lived and grew up only with my mother, in the small house with painted windows on the mountain top, the house in which even my imaginary friends laughed at me, in which the 3 paint chipped paintings hanging from the walls and the table oilcloth with scenes from the African savannah represented my only connection to a possible reality, to the "rest of the world".

My mother used to be a phys ed teacher, and has even won a few medals with "her boys", how she liked to call them… from time to time they pass to say hello, and while she makes coffee, they don't miss the occasion to make fun of me, poke each other and call me "monster"; some even take photos of me... I hate, hate passionately and sincerely the spark of admiration that lights my mother's eyes when she talks of "her boys", I know that she would have liked one of them to be her son, I hate that sledge on wheels after which I have been named.

That morning, when Mom left me, I decided to risk, to get out of the house for the first time… I told myself that if I were to melt I would do it laughing… My surprise wasn't little when I discovered that nothing happens to me, absolutely nothing. The clouds move too fast, the days pass slowly in my new life spent walking like a ghost around the house or through the forest, hearing echoing the same loudspeakers from the train station that I would hear as a child, and I ask myself: did the illness really exist? Who are the real monsters?

Yours, Gezu Bob