Wet Feet in Milano
I’m smiling, amused. I just walked home in the pouring rain. Gym bag and groceries hanging heavy from my shoulder. My black-and-white polka dot umbrella amidst the sea of umbrellas. This was no tourist moment. I was just heading home like everyone else, and put my new leather boots on the radiator to dry out. Now I’m eating some of Mom’s-recipe-chicken-with-rice-and-gravy that I had put in the freezer a couple of weeks ago. It’s November and I’m cozy in Milano.