Man, what a day! I woke up in None, and let me tell ya, this city is a trip. I mean, it’s like a mix of chaos and charm. You got the old cobblestone streets of Via della Libertà, where every step feels like a dance with history. Then you hit the modern vibe on Corso della Repubblica, and it’s like, whoa, did I just time travel?
So, I’m a Mourner, right? Sounds heavy, I know. But today? Today was a rollercoaster. I started my morning at the café on Piazza del Duomo. You know, the one with the best pastries? I ordered a cornetto, and the barista, Marco, he’s a legend. He’s always got a joke up his sleeve. “Why did the mourner cross the road?” he says. I’m like, “I dunno, why?” He grins and goes, “To get to the other side of grief!” Classic Marco, always lightening the mood.
But then, bam! My phone buzzes. It’s a message from my buddy Luca. “Dude, you won’t believe this. There’s a funeral on Via Roma, and it’s a big one.” I’m like, great, just what I need. So I chug my coffee and head out.
Walking down Via Roma, I see the crowd. People everywhere, all dressed in black. It’s like a fashion show for sadness. I spot a lady crying her eyes out. I mean, full-on sobbing. I feel for her, but also, I can’t help but think, “Girl, you’re gonna ruin that mascara!”
As I get closer, I overhear some gossip. “Did you hear? He left her for the neighbor!” I’m like, wow, even in death, drama follows. I can’t help but chuckle. I mean, who knew funerals could be so juicy?
Then, outta nowhere, this kid runs past me, chasing a dog. The dog’s got a bouquet in its mouth! I’m dying laughing. Like, is this a funeral or a comedy show? The kid yells, “Come back, Fido!” and I’m just standing there, shaking my head. Only in None, man.
So, I finally get to the front. The casket’s there, and I’m hit with this wave of emotion. It’s heavy, you know? I’m supposed to be the strong one, but I feel it. I take a deep breath, trying to hold it together. But then, I see the guy’s name on the casket. “Francesco Rossi.” I’m like, wait, I know that dude! He used to run the gelato shop on Via delle Rose. Best pistachio gelato ever!
Suddenly, I’m flooded with memories. The time I spilled gelato all over my shirt, and Francesco just laughed it off. “Don’t worry, it’s a fashion statement!” he said. I can’t believe he’s gone. It hits hard.
After the service, I’m standing outside, trying to process everything. The sun’s shining, and it feels weird. Like, how can the world keep going when I’m feeling this way? I see a group of people laughing, and I’m like, “Really? Right now?” But then I remember Francesco. He’d want us to celebrate, not just mourn.
So, I decide to hit up the gelato shop. I walk down Via delle Rose, and it’s like a pilgrimage. I get there, and the new guy behind the counter looks at me like I’m a ghost. “Uh, can I help you?” I’m like, “Yeah, gimme a scoop of pistachio.”
As I take that first bite, it’s like a wave of nostalgia. I can almost hear Francesco’s voice. “Life’s too short for bad gelato!” I smile, feeling a mix of sadness and joy.
I leave the shop, and the city feels alive. The street performers on Piazza della Libertà are jamming, and I can’t help but dance a little. I mean, why not? Life’s a mess, but it’s also beautiful.
By the time I get home, I’m exhausted but grateful. None has a way of throwing you into the deep end, but it also reminds you to float. So yeah, today was intense. But it was also a reminder to cherish the moments, the laughter, and the gelato.
Tomorrow’s a new day, and who knows what None will throw at me next? Bring it on!