They don't notice me, the Americans. A beautiful couple, all fresh chinos and Gucci loafers walking towards the famous fountain. He is excited as he perches on the marble rim with his back to the water.
"Like this!" Three coins fly over his shoulder to join the hundreds gathered in a spontanious mosaic. He finds three more and hands them to her.
She doesn't sit, doesn't turn her back to the fountain. A quick flick of her wrist and the coins hiss on the water's surface, her perfect lipgloss a slanted snarl.
His smile disappears, although no suprise registers.
I lower my book, sad that she sees no value in wishes.
Another near identical twosome appear. Pastel cashmere draped in casual elegance, her arm through his. Expensive happiness. They approach their friends; her delight as she sits correctly to cast her dreams. His eyes find the sculpted face of the first woman, her own eyes now glistening, hints of rose on her neck.
Who wished for this?
submitted at 1:12pm
9 January 2011
Margo Benson's web: