Writing Something Worthwhile

I am jealous. I mean really jealous. Take Corpodibacco’s post (Unfortunately, the blog no longer exists) as an example. Here’s a guy who isn’t mother-tongue English, writing stuff that I really like to read. OK so his English isn’t perfect (sorry C) but it’s pretty good and nothing a good editor couldn’t fix if it were to go into print. But his description, the imagery is all there. I, on the other hand, seem to scribble rubbish. Just the trivial facts, nothing of any real meaning.

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A heavy weekend; too much to drink; too tired; SLTG

This was started on Monday, but I never finished it, I’m afraid. So:

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Abandoned clothes!

Imagine, if you will, walking in the park. Stopping and sitting, quietly, on a grass bank. The weather is good, so you take off your shirt and carelessly throw it on the rock behind you. You decide to make yourself more comfortable, so you take off your boots. You realise that you shouldn’t have been wearing your boots in such hot weather, but at least, now, you can relax. You unzip them and put them, side by side, leaving the zips undone. You sit there soaking up the sun.

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A very pleasant Sunday, Chocolate Ice Cream & Rufus – looking pretty

It didn’t quite go as planned on Sunday after all.  We DID go for a walk up Corso Buenos Aires on Sunday afternoon as many of the shops were open. We DID take Rufus, who got lots of admiring looks and lots of ‘che bello’s’ and who was perfectly behaved, as usual.  V got some presents for the birthday of a girl at work because he always seems to be the one responsible for taking the collection money and finding the presents.

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