The time of wait is the uncertain time ofdream; reality and fiction, anxiety andhappiness, faith and doubt meet andmix until they become blurred. In thesemoments, every true identity seems tocrumble, life is going to change but youcan see just what you have been, pieces arewanting to understand what you are andwhat you could be. So, it seems necessaryto write in order to give substance to anew identity to be built. Even better. Youmust write to give a name and a face to a"creature" that you cannot see.