A summer in Sicily (part two)

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A summer in Sicily (part two)Our resort was just outside of Syracuse, the legendary Greek polis on the East of the island. Under the hot sun of August, the whole island was constantly glowing in a mysterious heat filled with promises of romantic adventures. Glancing from the small window of the circling airplane at the mountainous landscape of Sicily, I fell in love with it instantaneously. An unknown force drove me to dive in those bleak, ancient valleys encircled by the far-sounding sea, to knock on the doors of those lovely houses and encounter their charming inhabitants whose skins are continuously wooed by the glaring sun and gentle Aegian winds. It was the land of my dream, a shining pearl extolled by the Aegian waves up to the burning sky.Surprisingly, at our resort there were only three families. One large family from France with six c***dren, an English family carrying three crying babies, and an Italian one. The resort was small and from my güvenilir bahis window I could see the far-stretching sea and hear the serenity of its sound. As neither of my parents could speak English, finding ourselves in a small Sicilian resort without any other Chinese group can indeed be a challenging situation. While my father was struggling with the Google translation on his phone, our embarrassment was spotted by that Italian family, which consisted in two middle-aged parents with two sons, one about s*******n or eighteen, the other about five. Their skin colour was slightly lighter than the locals, but darker then the Italians from the North. They kindly offered their help, showing their pride at the beautiful Italian language. I noticed some thing rather strange in the look of their elder son. His intense gaze made my face grow red and my heart palpitate at a speed unknown to me. It was the gaze of desire, a desire that up to that time had only türkçe bahis existed in my nocturnal fantasies. The next day, at breakfast in a shadowy garden facing the sea, we met the family again. Early morning, the milder sunlight and the dewy freshness in the air lured us to new adventures. There he was, bathed in the trembling sunbeams, sitting on a comfortable old chair, his eyes half-closed as if struggling to wake up from a sweet dream, his beautiful brown curls loosely spread over his forehead, in his right hand he held his half-empty coffee in a rather careless manner. A perfect picture of la jeunesse sans soucis. Upon seeing me, he made the gesture of inviting me to sit next to him. My parents, who were eager to integrate into this small society of the seaside resort, seeing that I was about to make friend with this Italian boy, gladly consented. He smiled. His smile seemed to contain such a sweet quality that it melted my heart with its mellifluous güvenilir bahis siteleri air. I felt both excited and embarrassed. There were the differences of race and language. My speech, already tremulant and hard to understand in my native tongue due to my lack of confidence, was reduced to a series of unintelligible mumblings in a foreign language. He smiled, his crimson lips swerving up gently. ‘I can teach you Italiano, if you want.’ He said, ‘ I saw you yesterday. Sei molto bello, you are very beautiful.’ I flushed. It was absolutely the first time. My heart began to palpitate at the notion of the unknown desire. ‘Do you have a girlfriend?’ He pursued. I shook my head vehemently, unwilling to let this opportunity of demonstrating my innocence slip away. ‘Sono Lorenzo, by the way. Come ti chiami? Your name?’ ‘Yeming, il mio nome è Yeming, è un nome cinese, sono cinese come tu vedi.’He was surprised that I wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with his language. Gently he repeated my name twice, trying to pronounce it in the correct way. He then advanced towards me, his slender fingers touching mines: ‘I know a place nearby in the valley, do you like to come?’ (To be continued)

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