There's jousting in Arezzo in July, I say to my professor as we hike up the gravel path mountain. Huffing and puffing, I imagine the knights from Orlando Furioso or Medieval Times, where I went in sixth grade, right before I moved.
The horses, a deep shade of brown, carried their riders, dressed in different colors, across the sand in the arena as each side of the building cheered wildly for a jouster. I don't understand why medieval peoples found this fun-watching men get shot off a horse while wearing armor.
Chicken juice drips down my wrist and I stop to wipe it on my pants, we never got utensils or napkins. Later, at home, I say a quick thank you to the men who invented these items. My friend screams and waves a yellow flag in the air, spitting bread in the kid's hair in front of her. I watch as he turns around and swishes his hand through.
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