It's a childish game, but I've always enjoyed doing it. On certain days, when the sky turns from light blue to such a deep blue that it's crystal clear, I've always loved following the trails of airplanes, imagining they were headed who knows where while the mark of their passage gradually faded to blend into the blue.

And I was doing it this morning too: one trail that was slowly dissolving and another one fresher, with the airplane gleaming in the sun, that was intersecting with the first and then taking a parallel direction, almost overlapping.

When my phone buzzed with a WhatsApp message, I didn't look at it right away. I stayed a bit longer admiring the trails, then I turned my eyes to the screen and saw the photo you see above appear with the words: "Goodbye beautiful Frankie! You will continue to fly with us forever".

And I looked back up at those two trails that suddenly had a name for me: Michele the first, Frankie the second. And I stood there watching them, thinking back on their story, thinking about Michele and how much we miss him, thinking about Frankie and how much we will miss her. In the end, the two trails dissolved into the sky: I like to think that Michele and Frankie met again, as it happened so many times on the roads of the Marche. And that now they can do it forever, every time they feel like pedaling together.

This is the first time I've written an obituary for a female cyclist, but Frankie deserves it. Safe eternal flight, and give Michele our regards.