Postscript to the Rain

Last night it rained for eight seconds, which still briefly emptied the square. One brave couple sat it out. I asked Luca, a waiter, what the problem was. Why were there no umbrellas. “We don’t have a licence. And to get a licence is a big deal, you have to talk to the local government. And then the fucking bureaucracy begins…Italy: capital of bureaucracy. You want another Campari-spritzer?”

Why not, it is only rain.

About robhunt510

Writer, artist
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