Rivulet - A.R.C. (uplifting books for women .TXT) 📗

“…And when I get back, ALL THE FLOORS better be spotless!” Mr. Givolini yelled before he slammed the door behind him.

That was the tenth time that he had blew his top off to me about one mistake after another that I had made in his small Italian restaurant. I was left to close up since the amount of mess that I had done was way past the time it would take for me to finish and head home myself. Oh, the heck with grumpy old Givolini. The place was better off without him and anyone else around besides me. I often let my mind wander, imagining that it was I who run the restaurant, the small band that plays in the corner AND the bar. Yes…I’m very much liked in “my restaurant”.

But this time my continuing fantasy have to be put on hold for the night due to the heavy build up on the floors. So I ran the water in the deep sink to fill up the pales and waited with the mop. I wondered out to the dining area feeling a bit tired and decided to rest my eyes while I stretched out on one of the comfy booths. There were murals painted on all four walls, sight seeing around Italy. Now there’s a place I wouldn’t mind going. To actually taste the types of pastas, pizzas, wines, and the cheeses?! Oh! No matter how Italian Givolini claims he is with the name and his business, I’m pretty sure that it doesn’t match up to the real thing.

I would have a glass of Vino-no, the good

stuff. I’m in Italy now. Large and in charge so nothing but the best for me. I would take a ride on the Gondola with a platter of the finest cheeses, grapes and fruits. Different plates of pastas…the women…the women

.

“Buonasera, Signora Gusto.” That’s what they would say to me.

“Buona-something to you to ladies. Nice night out for a boat ride would you think?”

They would giggle, “Hee, hee, hee…”

“Plenty of room in this boat and plenty of me to go around. Anyone care for some food?-Care to feed me perhaps?”

“Oooo” they would squeal and push their way to step in the boat. Hmm, I guess it was no room so much after all. Every woman for herself. While the ones that didn’t make it in bobs and splashes in the water, the top contenders and I sailed on down into the dreamy sunset and into the west.

How did the clouds come down from the sky and place themselves on the water as if they were mounds of light whip cream that was adding the sweetness to my world. It must’ve been the effect of the European atmosphere over here. As the sun lays to rest, so does the clouds. And they all give the my river a glowing warmth. My Rivulet

. And just when I was continuing to sail into bliss, a gaping hole appeared out of no where up ahead and its blackness began to suck it all down the drain.

That woke me up. But that wasn’t the only thing that made me snap out of it. I was reminded as I woke up the sound of the water running. I sat up in the booth and as my feet touched ground, water. Water, soapy water everywhere and much to wade in let alone float. The scariest sight of all: Givolini. He stood there with each hand on the swinging door, eyes and face reaching the boiling point and steam coming out from his ears and nose. His breathing sounded like a fret train coming full speed ahead and I could’ve sworn the water was turning hot with Givolini standing in it. The only I could remember hearing last was his roaring.

“GUSSSSSSTOOOOO!!!”…

Publication Date: 08-11-2011

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