It was March 20th, a Marathon Sunday. I was heading to downtown to go to an Italian feast when I found myself on Sunset Boulevard. To my surprise, there was not the usual noise of cars, ambulances and fire-trucks. At that moment there were just some police officers on their motorbikes, some people cleaning the street with big trucks that look like tanks, but in a bright yellow. There were also a bunch of people cheering up the last marathoners, a bit out of training, but still very brave. I stopped for a few minutes, enjoying that peculiar moment and then I was again on my way to taste some spaghetti and Sicilian cannoli.