10-04-2019, 11:13 AM
At a table in an outdoor café outside the San Finzione Marketplace sat an old woman dressed in black, drinking her wine and watching the world go by under the now-lit streetlamps.
How long the Yia-Yia had been there, none could say. Children who saw her and asked their grandparents about her as they walked past long ago now had grandchildren of their own who would ask them how long she'd been there. And like their own grandparents, they had no answer to pass on to the little ones who would one day be asked the same question in turn by grandchildren of their own.
It was a gathering of young people she was watching now. Everyone was young to her, though. College students, maybe. They were gathering in the marketplace near the café, and she could see a lot of them now. She watched them carefully. Her long life had taught her that when that many college students gather together, something idiotic usually happened next.
People that age eluded her. As they had for a long time. Possibly because they never changed, but they always imagined they would.
She'd seen young street hoods grow up to become businessmen in suits, stammering about how someone needed to do something about all these street hoods. Always longing for some mythical better day when they'd been the bully instead of imagining themselves as victims for no longer being allowed to bully others. Always promising to change the world and ending up becoming it, despite all their vows not to do so, unlike their fool parents.
She got a little concerned when they started taking out signs. Young people holding signs didn't usually end well. But some of them also had candles, and young people holding those tended to end... not well; better, maybe. Signs meant they were mad about something; candles meant they were sad about something. Whatever got them so outraged must be sad too.
She shouldn't assume, though. All young people weren't like that. That one girl who'd been coming around lately, she was quite nice. She couldn't recall her name, but people who approached the girl when she came to the café to sit with her called her 'Tessa,' so maybe that was her name. The Yia-Yia had thought that Tessa was American, but her Greek was... eh, adequate. They could talk.
Tessa wasn't like those youngsters who seemed to be organizing into a group now. They looked like everyone younger than herself; always busy, on their way somewhere with something too important to stop staring at on their phones or taking pictures of themselves and everything around them. Tessa wasn't like that, though. She carried a telephone like all of them, but she was polite about it.
Tessa would stop by now and then, always unexpected, and always offering to buy the next bottle. Or sometimes she'd bring a bottle of something even better from home to share with the Yia-Yia. She always accepted Tessa's kind offer graciously, even though these fools seem to have forgotten to charge her for anything in quite a while.
Sometimes, Tessa even bought dinner for them both; and stayed for hours, wanting to hear more stories about her life and the things she'd seen. The girl was always a polite listener; and when she'd ask a question, was patient while the Yia-Yia searched her old brain for the answer. Sometimes, Tessa would even get dessert if the story turned out to be a naughty one.
She asked a lot of questions when the subject of cooking came up, as if the poor dear's mother had taught her nothing of the kitchen. But then, a girl who looked like Tessa was going to marry well enough not to have to worry about cooking.
But their visits were often too brief. People would come up to Tessa and ask questions or ask Tessa to sign things or want to take their picture with Tessa. Sometimes, a group of nice young men would come and take people away if they started being rude to Tessa, which happened more often than the Yia-Yia would have expected. Was Tessa a movie star from Hollywood, maybe? She was certainly pretty enough to be.
In fact, Tessa looked like the woman on some of the signs the young people were holding up as they seemed to have gotten into their formation. Phones were being put away and candles were being lit; little wind guards placed around them, so things were getting serious now. Things HAD to be serious for young people to put away their telephones.
But it couldn't have been her. Tessa didn't try to look fancy like the woman in the posters. That woman had on an emerald tiara and held a gold scepter. She was trying to look fancy, like some Baroness or Duchess.
.As the young people started walking by her in the street... Was the hospital that way? She'd never been there before... she could see one of the banners they carried more clearly as it passed through the clearer part of her vision:
How long the Yia-Yia had been there, none could say. Children who saw her and asked their grandparents about her as they walked past long ago now had grandchildren of their own who would ask them how long she'd been there. And like their own grandparents, they had no answer to pass on to the little ones who would one day be asked the same question in turn by grandchildren of their own.
It was a gathering of young people she was watching now. Everyone was young to her, though. College students, maybe. They were gathering in the marketplace near the café, and she could see a lot of them now. She watched them carefully. Her long life had taught her that when that many college students gather together, something idiotic usually happened next.
People that age eluded her. As they had for a long time. Possibly because they never changed, but they always imagined they would.
She'd seen young street hoods grow up to become businessmen in suits, stammering about how someone needed to do something about all these street hoods. Always longing for some mythical better day when they'd been the bully instead of imagining themselves as victims for no longer being allowed to bully others. Always promising to change the world and ending up becoming it, despite all their vows not to do so, unlike their fool parents.
She got a little concerned when they started taking out signs. Young people holding signs didn't usually end well. But some of them also had candles, and young people holding those tended to end... not well; better, maybe. Signs meant they were mad about something; candles meant they were sad about something. Whatever got them so outraged must be sad too.
She shouldn't assume, though. All young people weren't like that. That one girl who'd been coming around lately, she was quite nice. She couldn't recall her name, but people who approached the girl when she came to the café to sit with her called her 'Tessa,' so maybe that was her name. The Yia-Yia had thought that Tessa was American, but her Greek was... eh, adequate. They could talk.
Tessa wasn't like those youngsters who seemed to be organizing into a group now. They looked like everyone younger than herself; always busy, on their way somewhere with something too important to stop staring at on their phones or taking pictures of themselves and everything around them. Tessa wasn't like that, though. She carried a telephone like all of them, but she was polite about it.
Tessa would stop by now and then, always unexpected, and always offering to buy the next bottle. Or sometimes she'd bring a bottle of something even better from home to share with the Yia-Yia. She always accepted Tessa's kind offer graciously, even though these fools seem to have forgotten to charge her for anything in quite a while.
Sometimes, Tessa even bought dinner for them both; and stayed for hours, wanting to hear more stories about her life and the things she'd seen. The girl was always a polite listener; and when she'd ask a question, was patient while the Yia-Yia searched her old brain for the answer. Sometimes, Tessa would even get dessert if the story turned out to be a naughty one.
She asked a lot of questions when the subject of cooking came up, as if the poor dear's mother had taught her nothing of the kitchen. But then, a girl who looked like Tessa was going to marry well enough not to have to worry about cooking.
But their visits were often too brief. People would come up to Tessa and ask questions or ask Tessa to sign things or want to take their picture with Tessa. Sometimes, a group of nice young men would come and take people away if they started being rude to Tessa, which happened more often than the Yia-Yia would have expected. Was Tessa a movie star from Hollywood, maybe? She was certainly pretty enough to be.
In fact, Tessa looked like the woman on some of the signs the young people were holding up as they seemed to have gotten into their formation. Phones were being put away and candles were being lit; little wind guards placed around them, so things were getting serious now. Things HAD to be serious for young people to put away their telephones.
But it couldn't have been her. Tessa didn't try to look fancy like the woman in the posters. That woman had on an emerald tiara and held a gold scepter. She was trying to look fancy, like some Baroness or Duchess.
.As the young people started walking by her in the street... Was the hospital that way? She'd never been there before... she could see one of the banners they carried more clearly as it passed through the clearer part of her vision:
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