| when in rome All day in the summer heat Roxanne and Eric roam the streets of Rome. Her feet ache from her new Italian loafers. The soles are thin and the streets are paved in uneven cobblestones dating back to antiquity. But they are young and in love and love can conquer all, even foot pain. They stop in the piazza on the steps by the fountain. She dips her head to drink from the spigot. Men and women stroll by, cigarettes dangling between their fingers. Nearly everyone smokes and she is almost sorry she gave up the habit. He scowls. "I don't know how you can drink from there, where everyone's lips have touched." "How romantic," she says and raises her lips to his. Her kiss is long and wet, and reminds him how thirsty he is. "Didn't we pass a bar around the corner?" "Yes," she says. "Let's go and sit for a while away from the sun." They wander down the narrow street, single file, hugging the shop walls so as to leave room for the cars and vespas whizzing past. Their first night they witnessed a motorcycle strike a pedestrian. They couldn't understand a word the woman said but heard her pain. She sat on the ground, hugging her elbow, the remorseful driver attempting to soothe her. "An Irish pub," he says and laughs. "Yeah, pretty funny," she agrees, but it is half-hearted amusement. She is thinking of O'Toole's a block from their apartment, an ocean and six time zones away. For this she came to Rome? "Two Heinekens," he orders. In the dim light of the pub, they watch the bartender pull two bottles from the cooler. Is here or to go?" the bartender asks, placing the opened bottles on the bar between them. She weighs reaching for one now, pressing the cold bottle to her lips in the coolness of the dark room. Outside the heat hovers, heavy in the air, radiating from the stone ruins. But she hears the echo of those words, 'to go', a beacon of adventure calling. "Shall we?" Eric says. He opens the door and she slips by him. Outside she takes a swig of her beer. The sun dips behind the ancient ruins. Roxanne and Eric head back toward the piazza, arm in arm, bottles in hand. # # # © 2003 Peggy Duffy |
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| PEGGY DUFFY's short stories and essays have appeared and are forthcoming in The Washington Post, Brevity, Octavo, Drexel Online Journal, Pierian Springs, So To Speak, Wild Violet, Flashquake and elsewhere. She maintains a website at http://www.authorsden.com/peggyduffy |
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