Turista
Who? R/J
When? Modern, no verse
In honor of Lytton’s birthday and perhaps inspired by a recent awesome 'pre-wedding' post (ahemThailawritemoarplease!). Written on the fly during lunch - apologies! If anyone knows Italian please correct my rudimentary attempts.
890877by *aleksandra88 on deviantART
He could spot a turista a mile away - their shoes, ugly jeans, clunky cameras and various photographic accoutrement. They gave off a certain cloud of desperation - attempting to visit all the Eternal City had to offer in a matter of days, marching their way through the city checking off landmarks and fountains, sampling gelato and taking up space on the Spanish Steps. As a resident for years, he still could barely tolerate their presence. The travelers were bad enough; it was the occasional young woman who fancied herself a page out of Eat, Pray, Love that irritated him the most. Italy was ancient - a place that was earned, not a destination to fly into and magically find yourself in a matter of months.
One evening, strolling along the cobblestoned streets, he dodged a Vespa, stepped past some highly intoxicated university students and happened upon a most overwhelming sight. Across the small narrow strada, she was a vision. In an ancient city he literally felt the history weigh upon him from day to day and as an antiquities dealer, he lived quite a bit of his life in the past. Here, however, he suddenly felt alive.
Tourist or no, her very presence intrigued him.
The words 'ciao, bella' slipped from his lips before he knew what he was saying.
She looked up - startlingly lavender eyes greeting him below the trendy brim of a fedora that looked as if cost more than his weekly rent and stepped into a nearby cafe. The friend he was going to meet could wait, tonight destiny arrived in the form of a beautiful turista.
Second post in a row of first sighting between R/J…moving along moving along.