Last Moments.

4 a.m., I’m drinking espresso on a balcony in Rome. Our tickets home have been cancelled. (Hello, strikers.) After a scramble, I’m hoping my patch-up fix will hold.

The morning is cool with a promise of sultry heat. Birds serenade in treetops and fly among ruins from an ancient world.

At the metro, my daughter and I are separated on opposite sides of a turnstile. I throw her my wallet over the gate. Her ticket won’t work, nor the second. A man appears, opens the gate on my end, and speaks to me in Italian. My daughter hurries through. I say thank you, thank you, thank you, to the stranger disappearing into the crowd.

2 thoughts on “Last Moments.

  1. Just catching up on your grand trip! What fun! I hope you made it back without too much stress. I can imagine your homecoming – in time for the lilacs in VT. I’m sure it will be joy and then that sweet buzz of memories.

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