ROMA I

by Philip Alexander

She walked straight ahead of me, seemingly sure of her destination, a large creature, round and womanly, a gonzesse (the term suggests the knowing imperiousness of her tread), tasting the air, breathing deep, sniffing for the precise place to stop and perch. There was a crack in her armorshe would notice, suddenly, that she was walking alone, ahead of me, and she would then crane her neck watchfully back to see where I was, stop a moment, smile reassuringly, look at me and wonder, Scorpio fashion, whether she could absorb my every thought and wish and make me share her world with her . . . a little.

"How are you, baby?

"Fine . . ."

"Fine fine! or Fine . . . not so fine?"

"Fine."

"Are you all right, baby?"

"Sure...

"Then say so..."