Prego Perdonami (Please Forgive Me)

The short account of a journey, taken when the lights no longer shine, taken when hope is almost lost, taken on perhaps the most important day of the year, join her, feel her pain, feel her terror and wish her well for her journey.


1. Ti prego perdonami=please forgive me

A/N- All comments welcome, lets see how this goes :D


I waked off the boat onto the dark street. The grey flagstone glinted in the full moon, the winter wind cut sharply against my exposed skin. My scarf hung limply around my neck, dragging in the wind. The stench of the water filled my nose. The old Naval Museum loomed ahead, dark and empty. Above the door lay the old marble lion now decrypted with age and time. The captain bid me goodnight and pulled up the gangplank, ready for his departure into the night. I turned towards the bridge, the water below slopped and sloshed. I climbed up the seven steps and paused to look down the canal, the mist just touching the murky water. I checked my watch, the coldness turning my hand red as it slashed across my skin. It had just gone eleven fifteen; the sky was a cloudless deep blue. The pavement was mainly clear apart from the night workers; dressed in hardly anything. The wind picked up as I descended the stairs; now fully aware of the time, ahead of me lay another two bridges before I reached my destination.

The sound of my footsteps echoed as I walked.  Every house was shut to me; doors locked and bolted. The only other sound was the gondolas rubbing together lightly covered in icing sugar snow.  I approached the second bridge, my legs now numb from the bitter cold. The wind stabbed again as I tried to make my numb legs move faster. I urged myself forward; the marble was now slippery under the light snow. I walked near to the side to the bridge, to hold myself up. It had begun to snow again, the wind picking up so fiercely I held my scarf to my mouth. This bridge was bigger than the last and in a way more grand. The sides of the bridge were twisted stunning white marble. A small boat approached under the bridge, its motor creating a low hum. The smell of the petrol added to the already pungent smell of the water. The noise of the motor was far better than the sound of my lonely footsteps.

I looked again at my watch; I could not be late, not for this. The wind picked up again, throwing the snow into a blizzard. I could not feel my nose; a lonely cat meowed near by, also hating the night. My feet pulled me forward towards the four great lions.  Their greenish marble mains; dotted in light snow, glinted in the full moon.  Behind the safe guard of the lions sat the men of Venice. I looked down, the memories now returned to my mind, as tears touched my eyes. My father had always brought me here as I child and now I returned with no father by my side to protect me. I looked once more at the men of Venice before I continued on my journey, the end now in sight. The last bridge lay ahead closer now and much bigger than the last. I made my way up slowly, during the day this would have been imposable. I stop and looked down the canal towards what had always been a part of my holidays; the Ponte dei Sospir. I always remembered the Ponte dei Sospir from my father’s stories and always stopped whenever we passed to remember. Now I had nothing to remember but my broken promise to my father. I made myself walk again before I burst into tears. I could see the colloums and grand statues of Piazzetta di San Marco.

I entered the piazza, taking in the breath-taking sights; the Basilica’s elaborate details glinted and shined in the moon light. I walked over to the side of the shops, opposite the Doge's Palace. I sat down on the steps, and looked again at my watch. It was eleven forty-five. I looked out over the Bacino di San Marco the island of San Giorgio Maggiore lay there, the brilliant white Palladio's church was cast in darkness. I looked on over the beauty that surrounded me; I noticed that I was the only one in the piazzetta.  I was scared, cold and alone, all too soon it became evidential that he was not going to turn up. My watch beeped twelve. I let one lonely tear roll down my cheek as I whispered into the night sky. “Merry Christmas daddy, I love you. Ti prego perdonami” 




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