Out on the Street Pt. 01

Angelo merely blinked at me, still processing, I thought, but Vittorio hastily swallowed his mouthful of bread-and-jam, and replied;

"Sir - yes. Is it necessary for us to decide tonight?"

"Not at all," I assured him. "You have a week - or a little more, actually. I'll come to the corner again at eight on Sunday next week. If you're there, good. If not, I'll know what you've decided."

I smiled and stood, reaching for my pocketbook. They scrambled reflexively to their feet in response, each taking his recompense with foot-shufflings and head-duckings that suggested to me they were eager to be gone from here, so I gave them another couple of cigarettes and led them downstairs, across the now pitch-black garden, and released them through the back gate.

I stood outside in the still air for a little, within the wall, listening for sounds of life. There was nothing close by - no night birds, crickets, crunching footsteps - just the insistent barking of a single dog, muffled and distorted by distance.

I flicked away the end of my cigarette and and made for the house, wondering how it was possible to find oneself alone in a city so thronging with people.