Since Denmark declared the lockdown, any place beyond the borders of Aarhus could be an hic sunt leones. The epidemic re-crafted my mental map of safe and unsafe places, restricting the list of the former to few zones: The Botanical Garden, Risskov Forest, and my dorm's kitchen.

In these places, I can feel a sense of relief: the fear for the pandemic numbs, the sense of oppression evaporates. In fact, fear and oppression do not originate from the situation in Denmark, but mostly from the one in Italy. My home country has been struck violently by the virus: the government imposed home quarantine for all the Italians, forbidding any kind of social contact. However, after two months, there are shy signs of a return to normalcy: these little steps are the greatest source of hope that I have.