Tuesday, November 10, 2015

Brollies must be red

The pace of the fly is far greater than I can tolerate. In the late morning light the sound of buzzing insects is drowned out by the gurgle of the espresso machine and the soft clutter of kitchen noises. Blue is an emotive colour. It suggests a moribund feel to the day, against the warm glow of the chandeliers. Not so, though. Just the possibility of rain. Another double espresso and a check of the weather recommends a brollie or a bus ride.

The photographer in me recommends a red brollie. National Geographic would make it mandatory.
The language barrier has also raised its prickly head when the waitress and I collide. I will make amends later. Meanwhile, Rome awaits.

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