“Would you like to play?” “You and me?” “Yes. Why not? Are you afraid of me?” “Of course not, what is there to be afraid of?” “Well, I will buy a day of your life. You will be paid for it.” “What are you saying? You’re joking, right?” “I’ll take one day and give you a thousand euros. I’ll rent you, what do you call it? For only twenty-four hours. What do you say?”

(from the back cover of the book) The esteemed journalist and author, Semina Digeni, presents her fourth book, the novella Felicità, published by Kapa Publishing. Felicità, which features a theatrical structure, elements of mystery, and a subversive plot, narrates a daring experiment, a game where the protagonists, a man and a woman, alternate in the roles of perpetrator and victim. What appears to be a simple meeting between a director and a young distributor escalates into a situation that continually raises questions. Until the last pages, the reader cannot reach safe conclusions about the relationship between the two characters in the novella. And when the truth is finally revealed, it dramatically overturns everything that seemed to be true.

As the author herself states: “The heroine of this novella, if she existed in reality, I would like her to be my friend. Just like the boy who listens, mesmerized, as she tells him that she wants to... rent a day of his life. When he agrees to 'sell' her 24 hours of his, because she wants to learn something, a dangerous experiment begins, along with a question: Will she ultimately use her misery as raw material for redemption? Or perhaps—as Euripides warned centuries ago—the danger will come faster because it was scorned?”

The first readers of Felicità In introducing the book to readers, the author, poet, and theater critic Leandros Polenakis emphasizes: “Semina Digeni’s work, Felicità, is a hybrid text that combines well-crafted theater, well-developed cinematic screenplay, and a dynamic, nerve-driven narrative.” Actress Eleni Randou notes that “The text is filled with Semina’s passion, outside of forms, rules, and 'musts.' It captivated me.” Author and theater critic Iraklis Logothetis points out: “Everything is revealed through the activation of a slow-burning bomb, which will not explode before the viewer, but only at the end of the work.” And composer Themis Karamouratidis wonders: “Felicità makes you feel like you are covertly reading the screenplay of a thrilling film by Antonioni or Almodóvar. In a kamikaze fashion, this work is written as if she doesn’t have this huge career in journalism. As if everything begins and ends within Felicità. Semina, are you the 'Woman' and we the 'Experiment'?”