362 Little Bourke Street, Melbourne
This story is not about how we met at +39 Pizza Bar on a bustling Melbourne lane way for the love of pizza. It is not about how too much food was ordered. Food restraint is not my forte. This time I blame it on the Italian accent, perhaps just rehearsed, but still, not helpful when it comes to saying no to a plate of bruschetta.
Neither is this a story about the bottle of red we shared. I am not even going to mention how it had a grape-stomping party in my head the morning after.
This is a very short story about moments of life, little stills stitched together by the thread of time. Moments like these are the brightest threads in that thick, strangely cut fabric.
No comments :
Post a Comment