Selling Sno-Cones at the Beach

my day (if Ernest H had been there recording it)

In the morning the air was cool and fine. We drank our coffee on the piazza as the peddlers passed below in the street.

As I rode back from the biblioteca, the driver of an Audi hesitated when the train crossing gates came down, then sped under them as the train approached. I waited until the train had passed before cycling on.

In the afternoon, in the cafe, the music was loud, and the young African-American boys moved to it as they drank pop and ate ice cream. I wrote 1100 words and it was good.

Later we drank a cold clean bottle of wine on the piazza and watched the birds circle in the evening sky.