This story is part of the literary competition created by In Trieste magazine “Winter in Trieste” which was open to all writers living in Trieste.
by Regina Tabaku
– Your hot chocolate ma’am.
– Ah, thanks!
She was totally lost in her own little world, re-reading for the gazillionth time Anna Karenina. Caffe degli specchi was her favourite place to be during cold winter days. Elisabeth was an artist from London who decided to continue her career in Italy, living the dream life of every artist, sipping italian wine and painting her love for beauty, life and everything magical it has to offer. For some reason though she couldn’t fall in love with men. She moved to Trieste for a fresh start, working as a freelancer for a magazine. She didn’t know what the future would hold for her so she just enjoyed her own company while diving into fantasy worlds.
-A table for one, please.
“What a strange accent” she thought to herself while watching a tall, handsome man enter the coffee shop. Time stopped and everything around her went silent. Nothing could distract her while reading a book, so why couldn’t she stop staring at this stranger like some child looking at a painting, trying to understand it? Was it the way he run his fingers through his golden blonde hair? Those piercing blue eyes? His dimpled smile?
-Got issues, miss?
– W-what?
“How long have I been staring at this poor guy?! He probably thinks I’m a freak.”
– I said, got tissues? I saw you’re reading Karenina. You will need them.
“Dodged a bullet, girl.”
– I know how it ends, i’m re-reading it!
– There is something so bittersweet about Russian literature that leaves you longing for more, doesn’t it?
“This man can read my mind.”
– Absolutely! I am Elisabeth. I came all the way from London to be an artist in romantic Italy. Nice, huh?
– Elisabeth from England! Your majesty… I am just a humble prince from Russia.
“Did he just pop out of my book?!”
They talked for hours till late night. He was an architect from Moscow, staying in Trieste for a couple of weeks to work on a project.
– Too bad I don’t have much time. This city seems wonderful.
– I will make you fall in love with Trieste so you wont leave then.
– Great. You are halfway there anyway.
“There it is again, that dimpled smile.”
They talked all night about art, literature and love while walking through the lamp-lit streets of Trieste.
Molto bello, questo.