It was late in that cold night. It hadn’t snowed yet that year and the humidity was rising out from the ground, sticking to the city as an impenetrable wall of mist.
The red Fiat 500 was rushing home, driving the ancient streets of an empty Rome, struggling in the night, barely seeing beyond the cloudy windscreen.
When the car abruptly turned, making too much noise in the silent night, the girl inside woke up.
She was too numb to move, the warmth of the sleep still lingering on her, caught between her fancy coat and the seat belt, so only her eyes, slowly, opened, heavy from the sleep and the wine.
She took a deep breath. Behind the tarnished glass, like in a vision, the most beautiful square in the world was standing, covered in a misty darkness mitigated only by some lamps that, with their projection, would make the marble of the colonnade look on fire.
At the center of the square, in contrast with the surroundings, a Christmas tree was standing, fierce, lightened by thousands of small lights, shining in the night, its light was so bright it would reflect on the facade of the huge Church, behind.
She knew that there, the day after, the Pope would pronounce his speech, continuing a tradition that had been going on for centuries.
She had this strange feeling that looking at all those centuries, those centuries were looking back at her, as if she was a part of them, tiny, in that moment, passing by with her red car in a cold Christmas night.
She shrugged, her sleepy eyes trying to follow the light of the tree flashing between the columns of the colonnade along Saint Peter Square, until the car turned away and the lights disappeared in the night, hidden by the buildings and the mist.
She exhaled, clouding the glass of the window. “Such a beauty…”, she thought, before falling asleep again.
200 milliliters of Pure Air from the Christmas night of 2017, enclosed into a sealed characteristic glass bottle whose shape is drafted on the dome of Saint Peter in Vatican.
Every bottle has a metal place showing the location of the Air bottling, the day it has been collected and the number of the bottle.
The seal is handmade with italian satin ribbon and high quality red sealing wax.
Put it on your desk at work, expose it in your living room, show it as a unique piece of art and open it for the great occasions.
Remember, what's in there could never be recovered. That's the ultimate uniqueness in your hand.
Note: In order to properly maintain the feeling and the emotions bottled with the air, this air is purely as it was and it's not filtered. We find the purest places to bottle our air and exactly because of this it may contain particles, flower aromas, pollution and smells that were present at the bottling location that may cause temporary discomfort to extremely sensitive people.