Sex and the Single Aspie by Artemisia

Author:Artemisia
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781784509187
Publisher: Jessica Kingsley Publishers
Published: 2017-04-17T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 36

A CHERUB IN FIRENZE

Kyra and Artemisia took a train to Firenze. They wanted to explore other cities, imagine life in another place, another time. Upon arrival they immediately sensed that it was very different to Rome. Not a single man smiled at them or said ‘hello,’ instead they pushed past with their perfectly-sculpted hair, eyes straight ahead, lest they reveal anything about themselves. Oh, the women found that so boring. They meandered through narrow streets, avoiding tourist crowds as best they could and headed vaguely towards the river and the Uffizi Gallery. They had little time and literally no plans.

On the way, they stumbled across the large 1910 copy of Michelangelo’s ‘David’ set in the Piazza della Signoria. The original was kept away from the elements in the Accademia Gallery.

“Must be nice to have a clone,” Artemisia joked.

She would love to be able to stay home in bed reading every night, while a copy of her went out and had all these potentially debilitating adventures. Nearby, was ‘Perseus clutching the head of Medusa’ and many other renaissance marvels, still perfectly preserved. A little while later they came across a statue of Dante Alighieri, a figure in Kyra’s life for many years. She’d met her husband at a school called by that very name. And now, years later, the couple were parting. Artemisia waited behind so Kyra could visit the statue alone. This was private.

A few minutes later, in a shop, they heard a favorite song from Kyra’s youth.

“The gods and goddesses don’t so much as whisper to me here in Florence, but they are shouting at you,” Artemisia told her. “You are doing the right thing.”

Kyra just smiled seductively in agreement. She’d blossomed from a wallflower to a trailing ivy, wandering and decorating everything that she touched. She spoke, people listened, she smiled, and they fell in love. Sometimes the best way to live was for something to die.

They sat in a café in the Piazza della Republica, when Artemisia spied a bald man with a motorcycle helmet and high heels walking with a young lad, a dark cherub. They sat on a stone bench, the young one’s feet not even touching the stones below. His head was turned up coquettishly toward the older man. He talked the whole while, swinging one of his legs like a girl in a 1930s musical. He had a perfect Botticelli cherub face, except that his skin was dark, not fair, his hair black, not golden as they were always depicted, but he had the perfect cupid’s bow mouth. The older man was captivated. Artemisia was not one to judge; age and knowledge made that too heavy of a burden, but she hoped fervently that this was not a young teen as he looked but a very clever hustler who played up his youthful air.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

RULE #59 Children are sacred.

. . . . . .

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