Friday, July 27, 2018

Une autre fois, mon amour

Every time I go to Rome I get a different feel for it, but I can never say that I love it. It's not pretty like Paris or grand like New York, but sometimes as vulgar as my childhood's LA.

Stephanie feels it too. "Let's go to Nice and get in trouble" she says, a sudden hint of madness in her emerald eyes. My only condition is that we stay away from Le Negresco, so she books the Westminster just for spite.

"Ocean view?" she asks as if she really means it like a question. I don't know how the two of us ever became friends.

Friday, July 20, 2018

For me to know

The first few days: I keep arriving at new places thinking it's just temporary, but somehow I always end up staying. Maybe my restlessness has limits after all. Stephanie doesn't complain, every time I see her it's as if nothing has happened since the last, as if nothing could ever come between us. Or perhaps we're just good at acting.

We have long lunches and dinners with her family at places I didn't know existed. They're open just for them, just for him. Never a menu, never any orders but we always get exactly what we want like it's been pre-written in stone.

I ask him if he lives in Rome to be close to the political power, i ladri di Roma. He laughs like at a clueless child.

"If you think politicians have the power," he says, "then, cara mia, you have a lot to learn about the catholic church".