The City Of Love (ONC2019 AND WATTYS2019 ENTRY)

Chapter Eight ~ I Like To Move It Move It

My alarm beep-beeped shallowly, enough to rumble my ears and wake me from a dream-like state but not enough for me to open my still-sleepy eyes. I sprawled there for a while, my arms and legs around me, surrounded by pillows and the amazing fluff all stuffed onto the big bed. Eventually, I pried my lashes from one another and wiped my eyes from their crust that formed when I was asleep.

Flinging my arm out for my phone, I moved slowly upwards and laid my head on the cushioned headboard. The time card on my phone screen read 8:24 in big, white letters.

Still fighting the jet lag and change in time zones, I crept from my cocoon of blankets and pillows to my suitcase. I had no idea what I would do today, so I grabbed randomly. Grasped in my left hand were loose, flowy shorts. Made from a soft, white material, they were edged with an inch wide lace band that reached far above my knees. I had never worn them out in public before, only as sleep shorts at home, but on my way to opera yesterday I saw many locals or more likely tourists wearing similar styles and cuts. I figured now was as good a time as ever to try them out. In my other hand was a new bikini top I had bought last year for a pool party, only to be told by my parents that I couldn't go because the pre-SATs were the next week, and I had to study. It was a plain red string bikini top but looked amazing.

I shuffled around for the matching bottoms and put the suit on, then the shorts, and hunted for a loose shirt to wear over the bikini. Deciding on a faded red fitted T, I stumbled to the on-suite and went through my morning routine of battling my unmanageable blonde hair. When I was done, I put the newly-brushed soft strands into a loose ponytail and brushed my perfect teeth. I always had good teeth, nice and white and naturally straight, but my parents still made me get braces to ensure they would be perfect.

Filling my favorite black mini backpack-purse with all the essentials, I slid on my sunglasses and flip flops and headed out the door to find some breakfast.

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I whipped out my phone to look at small cafés where I could find some breakfast, only to notice the Missed Call banner at the bottom of the screen. The icon had Dad's contact picture placed just before the Call Back button. It was a picture of him holding and hugging me as I held up a little box turtle I found in our backyard. I was nine when it was taken by a smiling Salome. I could still see her warm smile and curled lips as she took the picture. In the bubble, you could just barely make out my mother, scowling in the corner about germs and diseases contracted from wild animals. Immediately I felt a wave of regret wash over me for leaving my father. I was drenched with regret. The liquid regret so black and thick it stuck to my body and bubbled and boiled. The closing feeling began in my throat again.

My fingers were a flash as I sloppily typed in my passcode, desperate to get away from the picture, and in the process, mistyping my combination three times.

Eventually, I managed to wash off the thick tar and calm down. In the process, I looked up some restaurants and found Antico Caffé Spinatto, a charming expresso bar only two miles away. It had four stars and over 2,000 great reviews. Placing my phone in my front pocket, I hooked my fingers in the straps of my backpack-purse and started walking down the fairytale-esk shop-lined walkway.

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When I arrived, I ordered their town-famous expresso, egg soufflé with ham, and a side of some delicious sauce I can't even begin to pronounce the name of. In the end, I only paid 13 euros with a €7 tip, leaving me with €141 left.

I left the gorgeous café feeling light and happy and decided it would be a good idea to get some travel essentials I would need on my trip. Letting my feet do the choosing, I walked into several small shops before finding one that looked like a cuter version of a CVS that would have everything I would need.