8 May 2012

The Italian Gentleman

"Are you actually Italian?"
"Yes, of course, why would I'a lie'a to sucha pretty face?
"You don't really look Italian."
"My mother is from Dubalin, you see. She move with my fatha' many years ago."
"Huh, I have never met an Italian man before."
"There are not so many in this town, yes?"

"Tell me more about Florence, Gianfranco..."
"Is the most incredible place on Earth for me, 'is my home. Make me very sad when I think of all the, how do you say...eh...poverty? So very sad."
"Oh Gianfranco, I had no idea that you were so sensitive."
"Me, no no no. I love my country and my people, same as you. We are not so different, you and I."
"Oh, I don't know about that. I have to visit Italy someday though, is it really as beautiful as they say?"
"For me, is most beautiful thing I have laid my eyes upon, until this moment..."

The gentleman proceeds to gently lift the lady's hair from her face, before passionately kissing her as the summer sun falls out of sight. Hours pass in what feel only like moments, before the gentleman leaves to rejoin his friends.

"Did you just tell that girl you were Italian?"

"I did yeah, she was loving it."

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