vivez (ventimiglia, italy)

the sun seemed quite low. surrounded as we were by trees, tents and people – hundreds of people – the light barely penetrated in full at all.

but he stood in the full glare of the sun roasting chestnuts, voicing mixed tongues – the perfect hustler. i was nestled in some coats across the way, my path blocked under sheer weight of footfall.

jam, dolls, belts and golden horns. moving slowly, moving slower; bodies swell with opportunity.

so i carried on around the corner and filtered out of this narrow passage, against the flow, into the open conical to where the music played and the light swirled more freely.

i listen to people looking at the music. to that or to the wind, i’m not sure. he never turned around to see me, he never turned around at all; he played and played and played.

finally the sun blasts through, spewing buckets of colour over those who had been hiding in the trees.

back to the edge – there is a road to ancient ruins, over the bridge, sitting a-top horizon hill.

i feel his smile as he turns his head to me with the secret of his youth: he travels fast and light; he keeps on going. and we are all connected somehow.

thank you for reading don’t forget the sun. take care. k x

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