Momentary blindness

I lie on a cold stone bench with my knees in the air and allow my eyes to flicker shut. This is exactly the respite my body has so desperately needed. At this time in the late afternoon the sun does not beat my face but lightly kisses it, slowly lulling me to sleep. My lips form a tired smile as the air carries the scent of citrus right under my nose. In this sleepy state all the sounds of the park begin to blend together; voices speaking indistinct Italian in the distance, a car accelerating and whizzing by on the road below, a baby carriage being rolled closer and closer and then passing, the sound of its wheels against the rocks getting softer as it moves farther away. A cool breeze rolls over my body, breaking up the sun’s warm rays, and as it glides over me I hear it shake the leaves in the nearby trees. The combination of the cacophony of bird sounds and my own hair tickling my neck as the breeze keeps on rolling by is doing nothing to help my lethargic state. It’s decided: if the group leaves without me I may just stay in this garden forever, perpetually letting my lungs fill with the cool Italian summer air.