Chapter 6: Entering Rome

The next few days I am accompanied by Marcel, visiting different buildings, taking in the work of arts and adding more drawings and notes into my sketchbook. Soon I think I will have to buy another book as my current one is almost halfway full!

Carlo needed to take a plane back to Rome early due to his work which I'm still not too quite sure what is, other than knowing he is an artist, I don't know what kind of art, he seemed to know a thing or two about his history in art and I can tell by his rough calloused hands that he uses them for something presumably physical in the art department.

The farewell was quick and few words were spoken, only longing glances and soft smiles. "I will be seeing you very soon Flo, stay safe and stay by Marcel, he will look after you" were the last words he spoke as he got into a taxi and sped off. My heart ached a little seeing him leaving, the taxi slowly faded into the distance over the mountains. I wanted to talk more to him and be close to him, for some reason he feels like... home.

Marcel was full of joy as we spent our time together, I wondered if he had any children, I did not ask but the care and affection he showed me made me feel as though he were family and right now, that is what I very much needed.

"Life is so short my dear, we really must live it to our fullest and make no regrets. If you have something in your mind just do it! Don't dawdle and ponder... that is why I like you, you had a thought and opportunity and you just did it! incroyable" he exclaimed as we ate breakfast before planning our flight and stays. Marcel had very kindly paid and prepared for all of my stays, the hotel in Locarno, all the food we'd ate and he even took me to some local shops to buy a few changes of clothes, his taste in fashion was rather fancy but I will admit the dresses he'd picked out for me were very pleasing to the eye and the material was so soft, they felt like thin layers of warm air brushing against my skin.

When I would come out of the changing rooms, each time his face shon with glee, his smile wide and his cheeks rosy "Carlo was right, you do look like an angel" he said to himself, at those words my face turned red once again.

I felt bad about all the expenses and asked Marcel if I could at least give him some money to help pay for everything but he kept declining while saying "it was my idea to bring you here so it is my responsibility to ensure your wellbeing".

I only had my card on me but i was quite comfortable with the amount I had in my bank, my account was linked to my fathers after all, and well let's just say he was able to retire at age 30. That banks agreement was that everything of theirs would go down to me seeing as I had no siblings or other family so expenses were definitely not a worry for me.

Morning came and went, Marcel and me went to pack our bags and bid Locarno farewell. One day I will return here.

We drove in Marcels car to a location where someone took over his car to drive it to Rome while we boarded a plane there. The flight took just over an hour so by the time we had arrived it was 12pm. Marcel said that we would meet Carlo later in the week so for now we just needed to get ourselves unpacked at a hotel, rest then do some site seeing.

Rome was beautiful, its numerous galleries and sculptors, my sketch book was slowly getting more and more full but with each description of my whereabouts being more and more positive. On one page I drew a picture of the sculpture Pietà, Michelangelo done by St. Peter's Basilica, writing to the bottom left of my page "The sun is out today shining down on a face so sorrowful, I am reminded of the pain I had endured, the fallen and injured. This new breath of air and warmth filling my body with life, I am not like this statue, stuck like stone in a moment or place, I am now free and happy like the sun blazing down on it".

After a few days of site seeing, myself and Marcel grab an ice cream, once done Marcel says he needs to run a few errands and to meet him back at the hotel later.

I sit at the table by the cafe located in a centre square, I beautiful water fountain placed in the middle. I circle the fountain gliding my finger tip across the surface of the water letting the cool breeze brush against my skin. Italy is so unfazed by the war, I mean they haven't yet received any threats so no seems to noticed by the outside commotion. It's nice, to feel safe, I feel as though I'm taking a long vacation although a home to go back too would also be nice. I try not to listen to the news, I only hear what's happening in my current locations and what to be aware of, I do not want to hear anything else in case of upset and trauma.

As I walk around the fountain I notice a big building, its doors large dark wood with black metal gilding. To the side of the big doors is an identical smaller door, it is left open, a few clouds of dust drift out of the entrance and chiselling noises are heard from within. I peep my head into the doorway and see two men shirtless working on huge pieces of stone, one using some sort of electrical polishing device and the other chipping away at the rock, I wouldn't quite call it a rock anymore though, it depicted a woman holding a baby smiling down at her newborn, wearing a think transparent like silk dress, her curbs voluptuous, the strain of pregnancy etched into her skin and the tired eyes of a mother. She was the embodiment of beauty.

The man chiselling stopped and wiped the sweat from his forehead then turned to grab some water, noticing my presence in the doorway "Flo?" He asks, I blink a few times then realise my eyes were on the man's perfectly sculpted form. Looking up quickly it registers to me that the man standing before me is Carlo.