When the sun fell behind big buildings
and the blaze went out of the day, we
went in search of dinner. I didn’t care if
I never got home. Because it was just
perfect now. I wondered briefly if Laura
and I might get a hotel, but I knew my
funds wouldn’t stretch to that. We found
a quaint pizzeria, and giggled our way
through a large Margherita. Everything
was amusing. The stringy cheese sticking
to our mouths was hysterical. The Italian
waiters were out-and-out clowns. Nobody
else in the world existed. It was fabulous.
I was sure Laura felt the same way.