there was a thin layer of whiteness over the bare trees and cars and cobweb of streets that is rome. there it was, depositing itself during the night time only to dissolve qnd leave just as quietly as it came. and after 15 years it manages to make its appearance in this most unusual of places, most inhospitable for things like snow. it barely touches the ground and already people are running around like chooks taking pre-precautions and cringing at the inconvenience of this (not even fully manifested) possibility of what could be a radical change to the urban setting.
and so this morning the whiteness retreated, i fear, for lack of welcoming, except from the little ones whose beanied bubbleheads allready projected sliding down inclinations with plastic bags and crunching the whiteness up in a sugared citrusy filled cup and not having to school it for a day maybe two maybe three. the street is now covered with coriandoli, billions of coloured paper dots trace the footpaths like indications of where little hands and feet have left their mark... its carnevale, and there are arlequins and scream masks and fairies and zorros and roman emperors and marie antoinettes and witches and cold air envelops little red shoes.