In Veruggia the houses resemble tin boxes--the ones that often carry tea leaves--and they are
arranged cleanly along the streets, each a different color. There are thick-waisted palm trees and the
clouds are ironed flat against the sky. When I first arrived it was late
afternoon and the sky flaunted a gold dust hue. I felt light and hollow, almost
as if I could suddenly float away. The nearby fried-fish smells, huddled
with the scent of hot, splattering oil, made me feel a little dizzy and
peculiar. Then there were the ripe, bright smells of blooming flowers and the
less pleasant stench of dog shit smattered on the sidewalk and car exhaust
trailing around street corners.
I walked until I found myself atop a
squelchy knob of land that overlooked the pale pink ocean. The earth beneath my
feet felt porous and I soon discovered that it oozed ocean water. From afar,
the ocean had resembled a melted gumdrop, and upon moving closer, I discovered
that its pink color was the result of several million squirming shrimp. By now
the sky had purpled and the temperature settled into a firm chill. I watched a
flock of birds fly past until they resembled a scatter of peppercorns across
the sky. Then I noticed a mother and her child sitting upon a bench and blowing
bubbles through a bubble wand. There was something strangely peaceful about the
bubbles, which moved so slowly that they almost seemed frozen in place. It was
then that I remembered how I first arrived.
It had been an oppressively warm day,
so I had decided to leave my house and indulge in a short walk. As I walked,
the oily air slid around my elbows and greased my fingertips. I had thought,
mistakenly, that the outside temperature would be cooler but I soon discovered
otherwise. I quickly began to feel thirsty, and just when I thought I could no
longer withstand my thirst, I came upon a water fountain in the middle of a
park. It was smooth and silver. I placed one finger upon its cool, slippery rim
and felt refreshed. Then, before I even swallowed a slurp of water I saw the
bubble suspended perfectly above my nose. It was so beautiful that I
found myself instantly distracted. I searched a moment for its source, but my
gaze fell too soon upon its shimmer, its swirl of greens and blues. Then, not a second later, I arrived in Veruggia.
I pondered the possibility of Veruggia
being a world within a bubble. It seemed like the only explanation that would
make sense, so I decided to adopt the theory in place of the others
that had begun to take shape inside my mind. I then wondered what might happen
if the bubble were to suddenly burst. The prospect only filled me with a watery
discomfort so I decided to walk again among the streets and relish the green and yellow of the buildings. It was then that I
came across the young girl and her glittery bubble wand. She was seated on the porch of a house that I did not remember from before. It was painted
lavender and there was just one window, at the top, and it was left slightly open.
Veruggia is most beautiful in the falling
moments before sunset. I decided this while studying the hills in the
distance, speckled with smudges of pink. Then, of course, the sky, which
boasted a cornucopia of rich color. A rare breeze suddenly plucked a bubble
from its place and drew it towards where I stood. I swiveled around, in search
of the young girl, but did not find her. Instead, I suddenly felt weightless,
like my insides had whizzed away. Then it ended as quickly as it had
began. I stood, once again, before the
water fountain and inside the park. The world around me was submitting to
its own slow darkness and the park was nearly empty of all people. I stepped
forward and decided to continue my journey back home.