The Carnivale was well underway that night in Venice.
I walked briskly along Ponte Rialto towards Calle Fontego Castello, shoes clacking on the pavement, my embroidered cape billowing out behind me. I don’t mind telling you that I was perspiring somewhat, underneath my brightly coloured but heavy costume and the volto mask I wore.
The streets were thronged with tourists, many of them looking at my costume and smiling as I rushed past, a few whipping out their cameras but only snapping the back of me as I rushed past them. I was late, which was ironic because I was always telling my friends how late women are when I had to wait for them to do their hair, their make-up etc, how they are never on time.
I slowed down as I approached Merceria Orologio, for it was in the busy Piazza San Marco that I was told I would find her, watching the firework display. She would be wearing a black costume and hat with bright orange feathers, and she would also be wearing a white lava mask with scarlet and gold detail.
I took a pair of old fashioned binoculars which I had obtained from the costume shop, mounted on a thin black extendible stick, put them up to my eyes and scanned around the area, looking for my quarry. As I looked amongst the masses of costumes and people dressed in ordinary clothes taking photos of them, I caught a glimpse of orange, then black, and…it was her, I was not too late!
Wanting to surprise her, I stooped down a little as I walked through the crowds, stepping between people and gently but firmly shouldering my way past, walking as quietly as possible. I watched her carefully as I made my way round her, giving her a wide berth, and then very, very quietly, I slowly approached from behind her…taking my time…holding my breath…I raise my right arm and gently touch her on the shoulder…
Sod’s law that she had seen me already and knew I was there…
Sod’s law that she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, underneath that mask her eyes smouldered and penetrated to the depths of my soul…
Sod’s law that she was expecting me, I thought, as she slipped the rondel blade between my ribs.
The first words to enter my head with any clarity as I woke up this morning were ‘en pointe’ – fitting really.
- Daily Prompt: Comedy of Errors (dailypost.wordpress.com)
- Creative writing prompt #41 (creativewritingprompts.com)
- Sod Off, Sod (notsoprompt.wordpress.com)
- Daily Prompt: Comedy of Errors: Make Your Own Luck! (youngemtblog.wordpress.com)
- Daily Prompt: Comedy of Errors My First Day (linesbylinda.wordpress.com)
- Daily Prompt; Comedy of Errors/ The Daily Post (terry1954.wordpress.com)