28-04-2019, 02:13 PM
At a table at an outdoor café near the San Finzione Marketplace, there sat a Yia-Yia. As there had for as long as anyone could remember. The owner was the sixth generation of his family to run the café, and the fifth to no longer question how she was there every morning before they opened and remained there every night when they locked up and went home. He presumed that she had to get up and use the washroom at some point and that she couldn't possibly wait there overnight for him to open each day but was never able to find the time to intently watch her and find out.
The Yia-Yia did what she always did; she drank her vino and watched the world go by. People and things seemed to no longer enter and exit her field of vision, but rather, her field of opinion. Mostly today, it had been all the airplanes. Oh, there were always noisy airplanes now. She'd heard that the country had gotten an airport some time ago; that would explain it. It was when there were a lot at once, like a big one with a bunch of little ones flying around it. There'd been a couple of those today, and it seemed like the noise would never stop. It was inconsequential, nobody had been visiting her at the time, but still annoying.
She had gotten a visitor earlier today, though. That Tessa girl had stopped by. She'd only had a few minutes, and there'd been some impatient-looking men with her, but she reasoned that men were always impatient, waiting for their turn to speak to Tessa. She was the kind of girl that men would always want to speak to. Sometimes, rude men would come running up, shouting Tessa's name and vulgar things, and other, polite young men would escort them away, keeping the rude ones from interrupting their conversation.
Tessa seemed happy to see her. She always seemed happy to see everyone, but the Yia-Yia could tell that she had two different kinds of it, and this was obviously the real one. She was doing a lot of talking, about things that didn't make sense. Being home, then going somewhere in America that was also home, and now being back home and seeing her at her table and needing to stop and hug her, so that Tessa would know that she was, once more, home. From home, apparently.
The Yia-Yia had suspected for a while that Tessa might be American. If so, that would explain everything. It would explain nothing, but it would also explain everything.
Tessa had also brought her a gift. It was an ash tray. The Yia-Yia didn't smoke, so it was obviously for Tessa's use when she came to visit, implying that she planned to do so more often. That sentiment was worth it. The ash tray had a picture of that Eiffel Tower-type thing that the Americans have. She'd seen it on television and tourists' shirts, and thought it was called a Seattle. Tessa had thought of her, anyway.
She looked at the ash tray, and the strange American word, which she figured must be "Seattle" under the picture of the Seattle. It usually had that word under it. She thought about going to look it up to see if that name was right, when the waiter came over and refilled her glass.
Yeah, why change a good thing now.
* * *
The Yia-Yia did what she always did; she drank her vino and watched the world go by. People and things seemed to no longer enter and exit her field of vision, but rather, her field of opinion. Mostly today, it had been all the airplanes. Oh, there were always noisy airplanes now. She'd heard that the country had gotten an airport some time ago; that would explain it. It was when there were a lot at once, like a big one with a bunch of little ones flying around it. There'd been a couple of those today, and it seemed like the noise would never stop. It was inconsequential, nobody had been visiting her at the time, but still annoying.
She had gotten a visitor earlier today, though. That Tessa girl had stopped by. She'd only had a few minutes, and there'd been some impatient-looking men with her, but she reasoned that men were always impatient, waiting for their turn to speak to Tessa. She was the kind of girl that men would always want to speak to. Sometimes, rude men would come running up, shouting Tessa's name and vulgar things, and other, polite young men would escort them away, keeping the rude ones from interrupting their conversation.
Tessa seemed happy to see her. She always seemed happy to see everyone, but the Yia-Yia could tell that she had two different kinds of it, and this was obviously the real one. She was doing a lot of talking, about things that didn't make sense. Being home, then going somewhere in America that was also home, and now being back home and seeing her at her table and needing to stop and hug her, so that Tessa would know that she was, once more, home. From home, apparently.
The Yia-Yia had suspected for a while that Tessa might be American. If so, that would explain everything. It would explain nothing, but it would also explain everything.
Tessa had also brought her a gift. It was an ash tray. The Yia-Yia didn't smoke, so it was obviously for Tessa's use when she came to visit, implying that she planned to do so more often. That sentiment was worth it. The ash tray had a picture of that Eiffel Tower-type thing that the Americans have. She'd seen it on television and tourists' shirts, and thought it was called a Seattle. Tessa had thought of her, anyway.
She looked at the ash tray, and the strange American word, which she figured must be "Seattle" under the picture of the Seattle. It usually had that word under it. She thought about going to look it up to see if that name was right, when the waiter came over and refilled her glass.
Yeah, why change a good thing now.
* * *
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