#audltore

     “I know a little Italian, myself.” Elementary stuff, from a tape she watched religiously as a little, little girl. “Listen, listen: lo mi chiamo Hayley ----- umm ...  Come si chiama?”

a tired smile glazes over rough lips , to which he knows couldn’t be prevented - even if he tried . it ALWAYS brought a grin to the man’s face , at the easing comfort that accompanied the delicacy of a lady ; or perhaps it was the fact that rarely  - someone didn’t want to KILL him . but the pain that numbed his leg wasn’t unbearable - for he had been through much worse .

dark eyes scan over her pale complexion , her wheat yellow hair - for the girls’ features were a rare find in the city of venezia .

⊰  ‘ ❝  grazie , madame  .  you are rather generous ;    è apprezzato . ❞ ‘  ⊱

               The young woman did not hesitate to return the smile     kind and gentle as it had always been.   ❝   You are welcome,   ❞   she responded, though where the stranger’s language seemed to flow, hers was harsh and far from the pleasant sounds she tried to mimick from time to time     ah, too short a while she spent here!   ❝   But you should be more  careful  next time.   ❞

[ her mother kept her longer than she expected, roping her   into one story or another, seemingly immune to her   daughter’s several attempts to close the conversation.   slightly addled by exhaustion, myrtle barely notices the   shape in the dark near the middle of the road. 

  it’s likely a drunk, she thinks but upon closer inspection   --and accompanied with a gasp-- she realizes that it’s   blood staining the cobblestone. she stays a fair distance   away but the look of concern on her face is unmistakable. ]