Reportage Post One Week Two

Norma, the English woman at the table next to me, is in the middle of a story about a dog when I come into the conversation. She first saw the skin and bone dog and knew that it needed to go off and die, but instead, she built a relationship through food and water. The problem was, as her story went, was that this wasn't even going to be her dog. It was for her brother, who ended up not taking care of it for the whole winter. As they moved into talking about bringing pedigree dogs into Italy, they sound like those who discuss human trafficking and I watch a grandfather and his granddaughter, learning to ride a bike. She jumps off and runs into the gelateria, leaving her grandfather to push the bike, hunched over, up the hill. Two boys in little blue suits run after each other, nearly plowing over groups of people, and Norma stops and stares for a minute. The woman across from her in a purple turtleneck, Gale, asks about the jacket Norma is taking off. I imagine both she and Gale are sweaty, since it's about 80 degrees and they are dressed as though winter is coming. I shift in my seat, trying to avoid their conversation, watching instead a floral girl and wonder what it would be like to grow up here.