Me: your nose is flush.
Her: is it?
Me: just a bit.
We’re sitting in Piazza San Carlo, under rather large beige umbrellas, shading out table. It’s still warm. Now with wine, and an americano before, at our favorite spot a few streets over, red noses.
After we left, I noticed rosy cheeks, flush faces, everyone drinking in the afternoon. The sunshine, the piazza, a few dogs lounging.
Her: let’s get gelato.
3 scoops, as the pistachio drips down the side of the cone. Hazelnut and almond underneath it.
Me: I’m nuts for this gelato.
Her: I knew that was coming (eyes roll)
A small park, a bench, a breeze, an old woman with a shopping trolly pulled behind her, she is all wrapped up like it’s winter, but her sunglasses give it away.
Her: it’s a day you always feel over or under dressed.
Me: she looks fine to me.