The heady scent of the roses floated down the road

Florist

The heady scent of the roses floated down the road. Chico the flower stall seller was hoping his fresh crop of roses would bring in some tourist money. They always left their cruise ships on a Wednesday and walked up the hill towards him. He wasn’t making much money this week and hoped the new flock of tourists would spend some of their holiday money at his small stall. 

He eagerly looked down the cobbled hill toward the port and could already see people walking toward him admiring the Italian architecture. One couple was getting near to him and he grabbed a pre-wrapped bouquet of roses he kept as a selling tool by his side, and held them out toward them.

“Ello, roses madam?” he enquired at an elderly lady who was obviously American by her brash outfit and huge waistline. The lady looked at her also obese husband and he huffed before opening his wallet. 

“I’ll take 21”, he said, and winked at his wife. Then turned and Chico noticed the fake smile he had given his wife drop from his face.

Chico quickly tied up the bouquet, noticing the amount of money the tourist had in his wallet. The man dutifully paid and passed his gift to his wife who thanked Chico. If only he had that amount of money Chico thought to himself as he also forced a smile onto his face as the tourists waved goodbye.

Homeless Man

The heady scent of the roses floated down the road. Sitting on the old worn steps to the local church trying to keep himself in the shade, Jojo noticed the smell, forgot about his begging for a few seconds, and admired the bright summer gift that wafted towards him. 

It reminded him of being a child when he would play in the grand gardens of the Church orphanage. That memory, if only for a second, made him think that his life hadn’t always been this bad. However, his brain was muddled by pills and smoke and he often wondered if something else sat behind his memories of old.

Priest

The heady scent of the roses floated down the road. Alberto the local priest standing on his small balcony took in the smell and felt the sun hit his old, grizzled face. He loved the smells of summer and looked down at JoJo who was on his step begging. He felt like a father figure to JoJo having taken him in when a midnight knock on the church door revealed a baby in a basket, along with a few lira tied to a note, that pleaded for him to be saved by God.

Alberto had taken him into his custody and his orphanage started from there. The town was poor, but ancient, the tourists certainly liked it. He felt sorry that JoJo had not managed to get a job or a wife and had to beg daily, but he let him use his Church step. 

He didn’t want to cause any arguments as that might stir up memories and as a celibate Priest, he didn’t want JoJo’s drug-addled mind to remember anything from those years ago. No, it would cause an outrage in this small Italian town. 

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