Observations

I felt like I had a quintessential piece of Italy sat in front of me. The girl on the left was an image of style, achieving with coolness the magazine glamour for which many aim. She wore high-waisted retro flares, into which was tucked a white t-shirt. A lighter denim jacket hung across her shoulders and a pair of black winged sunglasses added intrigue to her persona, their frames framed by a silky black bob.

She conversed with the expressive older lady sitting next to her. This lady had smiling eyes, and the creased corners of her mouth were constantly poised in such a way that it seemed as though they too were perpetually on the brink of a smile. (When our eyes met, I never quite knew whether it was simply a stare or a smile that we were exchanging, making ambiguous the expectation of my response. I tended to opt for the latter, just in case.)

The women’s skin tones were similar, only one had seen more days and years than the other. A timeline and a friendship sat before me and they discussed things which sounded hilarious, outrageous, and very interesting indeed. Unfortunately, I cannot tell you at all what they were.