Florence: on my youth
posted by Jamila
Today I tried to navigate an alternative route back to my apartment from La Piazza del Duomo. I found myself shoved off narrow sidewalks and into the street by men with no manners and women who felt they deserved more space than they needed. A bit disgruntled and lost, I eventually found Via Gina Capponi; a familiar name and a promising direction. As I prepared to pass a woman and her children standing outside a doorway, one of the two—a little girl—began walking in front of me. Where is she going? Why is she walking so far from her mother? I couldn't comprehend why this little girl walked before me, yet I found myself entirely charmed and delighted to follow in her footsteps.
Together, she and I embodied the metaphor for my current state of mind: tracing along narrow roads in foreign lands in pursuit of my inner child—that innocence and idealism that I came quite close to losing.
Today I tried to navigate an alternative route back to my apartment from La Piazza del Duomo. I found myself shoved off narrow sidewalks and into the street by men with no manners and women who felt they deserved more space than they needed. A bit disgruntled and lost, I eventually found Via Gina Capponi; a familiar name and a promising direction. As I prepared to pass a woman and her children standing outside a doorway, one of the two—a little girl—began walking in front of me. Where is she going? Why is she walking so far from her mother? I couldn't comprehend why this little girl walked before me, yet I found myself entirely charmed and delighted to follow in her footsteps.
Together, she and I embodied the metaphor for my current state of mind: tracing along narrow roads in foreign lands in pursuit of my inner child—that innocence and idealism that I came quite close to losing.
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