CHAPTER 4: Alessandro’s monologue
A Foreign Guy’s Perspective ──────────────────────────────────────────── Alessandro aimlessly pedalled around the park. He liked it there. It reminded him of the parks in Italy. Why did everything remind him of Italy? It was a beautiful evening. The birds were singing, flowers were blooming. But he wasn’t looking. Something about the jasmine-laced breeze and the lighting was conducive to thoughts. He got off his bike and walked around a small lake. He was reflecting on the last conversation and all the unsaid things. Reflecting on his life. “Hah, ‘ the world crashing down !’ I know what that feels like,” thought Alessandro moodily as his mind sucked him into his most painful memory for the billionth time. “Alessandro, piccolo*… You probably aren’t going to like this, but… we’re going to India,” His mom had said, her face unusually blank. Huh? A vacation!? That sounded like GREAT news to 14-year-old Alessandro! *piccolo = little one in Italian “Forever.” ‘’...” He wa...