Musty perfume, The kind that grows on you The haze of cheap cigarettes Contrasted against the crisp Adriatic air
Catching that familiar scent in my lungs, I was back on that bus, My head rattling against the window. I was drifting along those canals, Jogging through those modest alleyways, Scaling those mossy walls
It was as if my feet were planted on the cobblestone, My fingers trailing the metal railing My eyes were sweeping the Mediterranean, My hair pushed back by its current.
I was back Where there was no heart in need of mending, No tips to be collected, No debts to be paid, At ease in that floating city
Kaylee Lowe is an undergraduate student at Cumberland University. She is a freshman enrolled in Introduction to Creative Writing at Cumberland. She has been writing short stories since she was 14 and is interested in pursuing an English and Creative Writing double major.
