In Rome, it seems to Alicia that every corner has a fountain. Whether she is walking near the Tiber River, or going to one of the bus ticket and book stands to buy a British newspaper, the sound of water slowly cascading over the necks of horses, pineapples, turtles or mermaids beckons her to pause for a coffee and count the clouds in the sky. She came to Italy with the purpose of finishing her book of poetry, but that goal is now gone for the near future. Instead, she has made it her purpose to try to visit, photograph and write a phrase or two about every Roman fountain.
Yesterday, she stopped on a path along the shore of the river to watch three boats glide beneath the bridge of Castel Sant’Angelo. While there, a familiar man with his daughter passed her by and they chatted. He invited her to dinner tonight and she is wondering what she should bring to the meal. She knows he is a widower and that he likes fruit, which she often saw him carrying in his market basket and every Italian likes sweets. So, she will buy a cake and bring berries along with some of photographs of the fountains. They will get to know each other a little better and she will be open to possibilities.