Libraccio, Italian autogrill. Penniless and Witch Prizes, all with the trolley to sell used books. A trip

They all have a need: sell, sell, sell. The prayer is always the same: “Take it, please. I’ve never read it. I swear”. They get rid of essays, free copies, novels, manuals, sad fairy tales, faded yellows. They do it penniless and Premio Strega, pensioners and high school students, drug addicts and priests, journalists and taxi drivers. We all do. You grab a bag, zip it up, and drive to Libraccio, the new “Autogrill Italia”, the chain of bookshops that buy used books. It is the “buy gold” of those who have no gold, the attic of the homeless. There is yet another species that comes here believing they will find serenity. They are the “confused”. They look alike. In common they have at least one double of Cesare Pavese on the shelf. Who has never had moments like this? It happens on weekends. We look at the damp walls. Dirty dishes pile up. Many have taken the decision thus: “Selling Hegel and also Cognetti’s Eight Mountains. They even shot the film anyway”. Today the real journey that tells the story of Italy is the “Libraccio-Reggio Calabria”. It lasted four days, until closing time. The final balance, at the toll booth (the cash desk): some have collected 270 euros, others seven euros, the price of a Margherita pizza. One of the most famous Italian writers, on Sunday afternoon, showed up with three trolleys (those in the hold) that exploded with paper. At the airport they would have searched him and seized him at the controls. His fiancée accompanied him. Together they “robbed” the safe. Five hundred euros in cash.