When In Rome

Rome picture

"So what now?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Are we just going to sit here?"

"Yes," I replied, taking a long, hopeful sip of my Corona, the cold glass soothing my hand. We were seated in a tiny, cobble-stoned, Roman piazza, surrounded by paint-flaked terracotta buildings, each adorned with baskets of summer flowers. The late afternoon sun descended quietly behind the roof tops, drawing a lengthening shadow across the square, and cast a last glow over the two marble children splashing in the fountain. I watched as strollers passed by, sometimes hand in hand and animated with laughter, sometimes just choosing to sit quietly together on the cool marble stairs below the trickling water feature.

"Well, you could at least talk to me," she said.

"I just wanted to sit quietly and take it all in," I replied. "It's been a long day."

"You never talk to me."

"Don't be silly," I said. "Of course I do."

"No you don't," she replied. "You're always busy with this or that. I never know what you are thinking half the time."

"That's because half the time I'm not thinking anything," I replied, sighing. "OK then, so what do you want to talk about?"

She tapped her foot with agitation. "Can we go? This place gives me the creeps."

I looked longingly at the pair of lovers staring quietly into the distance.


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