Venice Nights
“No Jacob to scope out the area, making sure there were no photogs. I glanced over the rim of my Ray-bans, eyes sweeping the area. Unless paparazzi were using kids to do their dirty work, the coast was clear. I paused in the street, watching them play on the cobblestone. A soccer ball skittered in front of me, stopping within my reach. I leaned down and picked it up, holding it out to a boy that barely reached my thighs.“Grazie,” he grinned, taking the ball and going back to his game. I watched ...the children play a little while longer, then turned toward the cafe, only to stop again. A group of men were huddled around a small iron table a few feet from me, playing checkers. They murmured back and forth, probably trading barbs. So at ease, at home. My eyes shot to the corner, a florist outside consulting with an older woman. The customer paid no mind to the rest of the world; inspecting sunflowers and whispering to them like they kept her secrets.Everything was so blissfully relaxed—and in my sweatshirt, flowered scarf, and harried expression, I stuck out like a sore thumb.MoreLess
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