Veggie Dogs and Raviolis
The Snapshot Series (#3)
She stands in front of ranges of tofu products (ranges of them are expected in Noe Valley). She is in a rush. She bumps into a tall guy with an apron. He says “SoRy”, with a rolling R and a rolling smile.
“Do you want to taste my Ravioli?” he says; “I beg your parDon?” she says, with a dental D and a dented smile.
They both pause; they both heard the foreign land, the hours in a plane, the displacement, the hopes that someday, maybe.
“I’m French. You?”.
“I’m Polish. I came to AmeRica to sell Raviolis!”.
He tells her about the foreign land; she hears the displacement. He tells her about the hopes and the American woman he married. She hears the fear that someday, maybe not.
They wave goodbye. She grabs a pack of veggie dogs. He pours raviolis into someone’s cup.
This post is part of the Snapshot Series on Carrie Speaking: Snapshots of life, 150-word photographs of human encounters.
aka CARRIE SPEAKING,
Travel Writer, Blogger.
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