It’s market day in Cortona. The piazza is an ongoing party and everyone is invited. Clichés converge at this navel of the world. You almost want to laugh but you can’t help feeling these Italians know more about having fun than we do. I eat a hot grape from the market, and the violet sweetness breaks open in my mouth. It even smells purple. I wish I could stay here longer, but the bell reminds me of time. ‘Ding-dang-dong,’ the bell says, instead of ‘ding-dong.’ I wish you were here.
From Audrey Wells’ Under the Tuscan Sun [2003]

3 Notes/ Hide

  1. eskapo said: reminds me of Hemingway’s “oysters with their strong taste of the sea”.
  2. sandwichspy posted this