They were going strong in the 1980s. They were the provincial discos, always located on the edge of the towns of northern Italy, where romances were born and ended in a single night where the lights were only colored, where from a certain hour onwards sadness always took over the euphoria that ends and left papers on the floor to clean up. Today, in that disco, there is an elevator. But not just any elevator; one that, even if you don't have hands and struggle to move, you can always use. And you can do it by yourself.
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