The Other Day

The other day I was in the campo on my way to try out the gorgeous black-purple gelato that I had been eyeing all week when I was stopped dead by a sight I have always wished to witness live. A man, absurdly thin and limber-looking, dressed in black from head to toe, was kneeling on the cobblestones in front of the statue of Giordano Bruno, his face painted stark white. Behind him was a large black speaker from which ethereal, wavy music drifted, whilst he plied his trade. He worked as though completely ignorant of his audience, turning his startling blank face this way and that. With gloved hands he felt the air, making it seem as though he was completely encased in a box no one could see. Who knew that mimes really do paint their faces and pull the stereotypical helpimtrappedinaglassbox routine? Who knew?

The gelato turned out to be blackberry, as well as wonderful, by the way.