A Night in a Calabrian Village
Author begins the story with a brief but very informative description of the night. He describes the rain, how the big rain drops soak his clothes. Then he says how empty and dark is the village, how unwelcoming are the houses. Village feels lifeless. Only dogs’ barks break the silence. He extends his hand to knock the doors, but fears to do so. At this point the author remembers his grandfather. Crete was his name. Author liked his grandfather a lot. The latter was a kind person judging from author’s description. He would invite strangers, travelers home, feed them, comfort them, and in the morning see them off with a cup of wine and a loaf of bread. That is all author wanted at that time. But there weren’t any grandfathers like his. Advancing some more into the village author noticed an open door, inside was a fireplace` a fireplace he was looking for, seeking shelter. The only habitant of the shed was an old lady, bent over the fireplace. The shed was filled with the smell of beans. He entered and walked along a long table. The old lady was already aware of the stranger, as she was glancing towards him rapidly, but didn’t turn nevertheless. Author felt simple happiness as his clothes started drying, and his body warming. Inhaling the fragrant steam from the hot pot the author started realizing that happiness very easy to find, but also easy to take it for granted. After a short time the old lady brought two plates and two wooden spoons. She filled them with beans, and also brought a loaf of black bread. They sat on the opposite sides of the table. Before starting the meal the old lady crossed herself, and glanced at the author. He understood the sign and crossed himself too. They started eating. Both were hungry. None of them said a word. After finishing the meal, the old lady prepared a place for the author to sleep. Both lay down. The old lady went asleep almost immediately. It was still raining, and...
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