"There had been a downpour in the village the night before, and the streets still shimmered, due to the countless puddles reflecting the light of what would turn out to be a beautiful sunny day instead, with a beautiful blue sky, crossed by white clouds, which ran fast, suspended in the mistral wind sweeping the coast. The pastel colors of the houses stood out in the clear, pungent morning air, making the sight a dreamlike vision, so much so that as he approached the village, after parking just outside the town, he had the distinct feeling that he was physically entering inside a painting, one of those colorful seascapes that you think can only exist in the imagination of painters, where everything is magical, perfect and unreal.

"A small village is a novel of social denunciation, simple, straightforward, unpretentious, but wanting to try to open eyes to a real problem; inside there is comedy, tragedy, poetry, life, death, love. All in a few simple, flowing pages, brushed with the bright colors of the Italian province and the dark strokes of vice and bureaucracy.

. .