~ A short story ~
Sweat dripped from her forehead and her white cotton shirt, soaked. Sally could have sat inside the cafe, the air con could have cooled her down. Instead, she sat outdoors because the view was better. Pavement cafes lined up on that narrow cobblestoned street. Bougainvillea vines crawled down from the second floor of the building down to the glass windows of the cafes, albeit neatly cut. Café Romana, that’s where she sat; its wooden tables topped with lacey white runners, chairs were cushioned with either pink and white or mint green and white stripes. Continue reading “There’s Something About Rome”