Microfiction Monday

Gelateria

On summer days, the Piazza del Duomo is swollen with crabby, overheated tourists wearily checking off the one major site in their glossy guide books before turning back to their buses and cars to start for the next town.  By nightfall, the piazza is eerily empty and pale, the white marble edifices like a moonbeam mirage.

A few blocks away, the town is waking up, locals stumbling out of restaurants and apartments for their evening walk to the ice cream stand.  Nuns shove their way to the front of the line, pulling rank on the young lovers standing together with limbs intertwined.  The nuns take a profane delight in their treat, but who can begrudge them this one indulgence?

Behind them, groups of teenage boys jostle each other, shouting flirtatious comments at the serving girls.  Each night the love affair begins anew – the girl with the scoop is the most beautiful girl in the world, until she hands over the cone and is forgotten.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, June 1st, 2010 at 12:59 am and is filed under microfiction. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.