Monthly Archives: November 2017

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What could have been in Rome:

She waited for him to emerge from the bar toilets, it had been a fun night and ‘The Public House’ had been kicking, everyone getting into the swing of things. She had been working behind the bar, mixing cocktails and pouring beers trying to keep up with the customers requests until she caught a glimpse of his smile at the end of the bar.

He had been talking to his friend and they were obviously sharing a joke as he turned to catch her eye, unlike the other customers he was not waving or calling to get her attention, he just gave a smile and a friendly nod when he knew she had seen him.

It had taken her a few minutes to finish off the rounds that she had been preparing before she could get down to his end of the bar, dodging one or two customers who should have really come first.

“Hey” he greeted as if he was surprised to see her so soon, “you are quick” his bright blue eyes shone in the light of the bar, almost drowning her in their intensity. For the rest of the evening he had been the perfect gent, a breath of fresh air compared with some of the other customers.

He and his friend had engaged with the staff and some of the clientele, making light of silly things, the smiling and laughing were infectious spreading to all those around them, making the time fly.

She almost felt a thrill when she would turn around and catch him glancing her way, not in a weird possessive way, but because he had been looking her way.

The arms of the clock had now crept towards 2 o’clock in the morning most of the customers had left for home or the nearest night club. She had done her glass collecting rounds making sure to brush past him and catch a whiff of his aftershave, a woody scent mixed with a lighter fruiter note, masculine but fun at the same time.

But now she wanted to take him in her arms. Show him that his respect had not been missed and those pleasing glances had been appreciated.

She wanted to know what he was thinking, was he honest, was he relaxed would they enjoy a night of passion?


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When in Rome

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‘Rome is full of tourists’ thought the Scribe as he emerged from the Metro, and to all appearances he was right, crowds bustled around the Piazza dodging cars, scooters and locals alike.

He followed the flow towards the Fontana di Trevi, doing the “tourist bit” just for a short while.

Using his height, he caught a couple of shots of the fountain over the heads of the crowds who vied for a position at the edge of the water.

Time for a drink.

Making a rapid exit from the tiny square he took the path of least resistance, or at least the one with the fewest tourists. It did not take long for the backpacks and selfie sticks to disappear and be replaced by shoulder bags and umbrellas.

As he made his way up the street a sign hiding behind the folded material of a weather worn table umbrella caught his eye.

On a greying blackboard someone had tried to freshen up the lettering and now the bright white chalk proclaimed “The Public House”.

Just inside the double doors with their flaking paint the entrance to the bar stood open, loud Italian voices spilled out onto the pavement as he took the steps up into the dull interior.