8 Aug - Mario

She entered the establishment with arms full of stainless steel, the aroma of olive oil and spices trailing after her like a forlorn and forgotten child. He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, enjoying the sunshine, the quiet street, the music leaking quietly from inside as if poured slowly from a jug.

He didn’t see her at first; the chafing dishes and platters served better as a door than a window, and only as she stepped sideways over the threshold did he recognize her.

“You!”

“Du!”

“Was machen Sie denn hier?”

“What are you doing here?”

She answered his English questions in German, and it took her a few minutes before she remembered to ask her questions in the same language. He was Italian, in his seventies, a gentleman of the kind seldom seen these days. They had spent a month in hospital together, she the only person with the time, patience, and language ability to keep him company in a land whose language he didn’t speak.

As they were both undergoing the same procedure, hip replacement, they had much in common. He was happy to have someone to talk to, she also; they graduated from bedside conversation to walks in the garden. Before they were each released, she invited him to a “party” in her room. He showed up with a box of chocolates and asked where the other guests were. There are no other guests, Mario. With special permission from the nurse they shared a bottle of wine, and promptly at ten he buttoned his coat, thanked her, and took her leave, precisely at the time one takes one’s leave in such a situation if one is proper.

They hadn’t seen each other since. He came from an island near Sicily, Ishica, and apparently had found others in Berlin of the same origin, as they met once again at an Italian-run establishment run by a friendly gentleman by the name of Giovanni who had catered a birthday party on her behalf. She returned Giovanni’s dishes and, completely coincidentally, met Mario again. We sat, Mario, Heide, Wolfgang, and I at Giovanni’s. We enjoyed a cup of espresso and a few stories. The world is indeed small.