“There are three masks: The one we think we are; the one we really are, and the one we share in common.” Jacques Lecoq
So I walked to 14, which was the first. Carrying all this stuff, depending on the kindness of strangers to teach me the appropriate curses in Italian.
Had coffee in a small brown soft plastic cup and a baloney and mayo sandwich. And watched the changing season.
and Maria,who smiled at me with both my bags and the mess I was making with the mayo.
Maria helped me with the word: “Stronzo ” but she also told me I could simply say “Son of a Bitch” … and everyone would understand me.