His wife was helping him along the shady side of the Piazza Navona. Giuseppe was very tan with dark hair and dressed extremely well. He wore a grey suit with a crisp white shirt and a black tie. Even with his wife’s help he struggled to walk. They stopped at a bench right beside where Curley was reapplying his SPF 70. There were plenty of people casually dressed around, especially that early in the morning but not Giuseppe. At seventy-five years old, this man wakes up every morning and puts on his suit and tie no matter how much of a struggle it must be. They sat quietly on the bench for a while watching the young men bustle to set up the restaurants. She began to talk at him, not really to him. He clearly was not listening. Then, silence again. He was definitely Roman, born and raised in this city. He likes to come to the Piazza Navona to do exactly what I was doing. Watch the people. His wife began to talk again but he still wasn’t listening. The sounds of the fountain are why he loves to come here. They stood up and began to walk away. Maybe to church, maybe not.
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