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TITLE (EDIT)
Italy |
DESCRIPTION
this is a piece I've written for my Mum - PLEASE can you provide some feedback?
[805 words] |
AUTHOR
Briony Carvalho |
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ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
just me
[January 2008] |
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (36)
Autumnal Longings (Poetry) Just got a whiff of blackberries and I remembered my place in the woods where I went to think. [104 words]
Bananas (Short Stories) A very short short story [180 words] [Animal]
Brit Boys (Poetry) As promised Curious! [240 words]
Butterfly Love (Poetry) - [90 words]
Changing (Poetry) Can't ever decide anything - just jotted down the meanderings of my mind! [120 words]
Chorus Of Love (Poetry) My first attempt at a proper old school rhyming poem - one about losing 'the one' [116 words]
Destiny (Poetry) Waffly brain fart about how going back is easier than picking yourself up and moving on [153 words]
Dreams Of Reality (Novels) Thought I'd give it a try... opening chapter of a plot I've been thinking about for a long time. [659 words]
Eternal (Poetry) - [80 words]
Four Little Words (Poetry) Out the words tumble - this one is about relationships. [114 words]
He Laughs At Me (Poetry) OK being told off for not posting so here's a rubbish poem for you. [86 words]
Healing The Pain (Poetry) That feeling of uselessness you get when someone gets bad news. [105 words]
Heartbreaker (Poetry) Another attempt at rhyming - bit of a jokey one (makes a change from my terminally depressive ones!) [97 words]
How It Feels (Poetry) - [141 words]
I Cling To Hope (Poetry) Thank you MK, a little changed but still the sentiment is yours. [77 words]
I Haven't Got A Clue! (Poetry) Who does know the answers? [139 words]
Mouse Brain (Poetry) Weird little thing written whilst bored! [238 words]
Nidiot (Poetry) - [142 words]
Purge - Goodbye (Non-Fiction) - [487 words] [Mind]
Raindrops And Memories (Short Stories) - [804 words]
Reaching For The Moon (Poetry) Just a little thing I wrote in about ten seconds when a friend bowed down to everything her bloke wanted. [96 words]
Scourge Of The Future (Poetry) Inspired by Colin Baker - you can make a poem from anything, even an old lady rant at litter louts! [75 words]
Shall I Tell You What I Really Think? (Poetry) Grr angry poem. [94 words]
Sticky Taped Heart (Short Stories) - [844 words]
Swan Dive (Novels) A little attempt at the opening chapter of a comedy (loosely) based around me [418 words]
Swan Dive - Chapter 2 (Novels) Part two of my pants comedy novel. [1,553 words]
Swan Dive - Chapter 3 (Novels) Part 3 of my stupid novel - I will put it into the first person - when I can be bothered! [732 words]
Tears And Beauty (Poetry) Sad that people are so concerned with looks. [126 words]
The Final Battle (Short Stories) Read it and you'll see! Any comments on anything I do are hugely appreciated - even if it's just to tell me to give up! [348 words]
The Mythical Creature (Poetry) Bit cheeky! [94 words]
Tiny Dreams (Poetry) As with the rest.. five minutes of brain splurge! - please please review some of my stuff - even if you think it's utter bobbins! - just amended it to have less 'she's' in it, thanks KM for the advise... [150 words]
Verbosity (Poetry) Got bored and fancied writing a silly poem for a giggle! [53 words]
Waiting In Limbo (Poetry) For my mum. [89 words]
Where You Live (Poetry) Blah blah fed up of work! [151 words]
Who Knows What Tomorrow Will Bring (Poetry) - [68 words]
You're My Shoe! (Poetry) How I feel. [83 words]
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Italy
Briony Carvalho
Italy
‘DO YOU SPEAK EEENNNGLEESH?’ He shouted at the deep chestnut tanned waiter. ‘Yes’ he replied in a low voice ‘I do’. Unabashed Trevor carried on in an overly loud voice ‘GOOD…I would like’ he enunciated ‘a coffee…nice strong white coffee’ demonstrating the pouring gesture with his hands. The waiter blinked at him and turned to Antonia who had turned scarlet with embarrassment. ‘Un caffè per favore’ she smiled at the waiter ‘sì signora’ he smiles and walked off into the restaurant with the slow Mediterranean walk that Antonia had come to love.
‘Wish he’d walk a bit faster’ Trevor sniffed ‘They’re all like that’ he indicated all Italian men with a flick of the wrist ‘never get anything done’. Antonia pretended to inspect a sparrow who was hopping from foot to foot hoping to be rewarded with a morsel of bread.
The sun beat down into the piazza. Waiters stood laughing and chatting by the quiet umbrella covered tables. A gentle breeze rippled the tablecloths up, restrained onto the plastic tables with clips. The sparrows bickered and twittered round the running drinking fountain and a beautiful girl in a bright yellow t-shirt skipped off a Vespa and scampered over to an old lady to help her stack giant watermelons onto a rickety table. Bells from the numerous churches chimed out midday and Trevor stuck his fingers in his ears. ‘Too damn noisy, too many bells’ he shouted and sent the birds skittering and chasing each other over the rooftops dressed with washing.
Antonia loved Italy, she felt she had lived there before. Every corner she turned around was a sight more beautiful that before and she felt she would never be content until she had committed every corner, every building, every church, every fresco, every ornate drinking fountain and ice cream stand to memory. Whenever she had to leave she felt a wrench as if she was leaving a part of her soul there. Trevor, on the other hand, hated all of it. He hated the food, the architecture, the churches and the languid attitude of the people. He raged for hours when a shop opened 20 minutes after the advertised time without so much as a word. He longed to return home to baked beans, chips and the familiar. The waiter ambled back with two cups of coffee, a small container of milk and a tray with sugar and a couple of biscuits. ‘Signor’ he almost spat ‘Signora’ he smiled and laid her cup with a flourish. Trevor grabbed his cup and threw more than half the milk into it. He glugged down more than half of the cup in one gulp ‘Yuck’ he grimaced and gulped the rest in one slug. Antonia poured the rest of the milk in and unwrapped a delicious biscuit. She tilted the cup and sipped a little, focussing on the sound of the birds and chatter of the shoppers in the market. Trevor shuffled his chair impatiently. ‘Shall we go to St Marks next?’ Antonia suggested ‘If we must’ he huffed at her and continued to stare across the piazza at the ice cream shop. Antonia fished out the map for his benefit and planned the route.
No matter how many times she saw it the roof of the basilica left her open mouthed. She tiptoed round, not quite believing she was allowed to walk on some of the phenomenal mosaics. Trevor had stomped round and was now tutting loudly at the prices in the gift shop. Antonia stood agog again at the p’ala d’Oro. Her mind couldn’t imagine how you could create something of so much beauty and wondered for the millionth time how it could be so easily accessible and not trapped behind glass like so many English relics. Trevor had returned to her side for a second. ‘It’s stunning isn’t it?’ ‘s’alright’ he admitted. ‘Can I get an ice cream?’. Sometimes he was like a child.
On the plane Trevor wrestled the belt around his large frame and rammed his chair back into the person behind – temporarily paralysing him. He smiled at the hostess as he handed him a cheese and pickle sandwich. Antonia sipped her Coca Cola Light and flicked open her newspaper – trying to resurrect some of her rustier Italian. Trevor chomped noisily on his cheese and pickle sandwich and nodded to accept a lovely cup of instant coffee. Bliss was all over his face as he stuffed the headphones into his ears to watch a mindless comedy. Antonia smiled and accepted a pizza with mozzarella and rocket. Bliss was all over his face as Trevor turned in his seat and wondered where Antonia was as the plane took off. Antonia threw a crumb to a sparrow who bickered with the other birds and swooped off over the rooftops as they called their flock to mass.
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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2008 Briony Carvalho |
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
November 2008 |
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
1771
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