Phoebe Azario
Stories (2/0)
The Last Wish
Every day an estimated 3,000 euros are thrown into the Trevi Fountain in Rome. Moonlight dances on Metasabia’s Ethiopian skin. She stands on the tiny terrace of a large estate building, the heat of this Summer night gathered moistly on her pores. In her arms she holds her breastfeeding baby who she almost lost at birth 6 months earlier. Her suckle is so forceful it’s hard to believe she touched death. She named her daughter Minyoti, the Amharic word for ‘wish’. Metasabia has always believed in wishes and now even more so. In the distance, the round roof of the Vatican seems to mirror the moon both in shape and glory.
By Phoebe Azario3 years ago in Poets
The Last Wish
Every day an estimated 3,000 euros are thrown into the Trevi Fountain in Rome. Moonlight dances on Metasabia’s Ethiopian skin. She stands on the tiny terrace of a large estate building, the heat of this Summer night gathered moistly on her pores. In her arms she holds her breastfeeding baby who she almost lost at birth 6 months earlier. Her suckle is so forceful it’s hard to believe she touched death. She named her daughter Minyoti, the Amharic word for ‘wish’. Metasabia has always believed in wishes and now even more so. In the distance, the round roof of the Vatican seems to mirror the moon both in shape and glory.
By Phoebe Azario3 years ago in Criminal