Question:

I need my work critique. I was wondering if someone could help me?

by  |  earlier

0 LIKES UnLike

A Love Story in Italy

Many of times I have recollections of her hazel eyes, as a faint portrait of her face

comes within view. Though I am far distant from her now, it is not little that I think of

her. Often, on serene summer nights I ponder that once kept intrigue; the captivation that

held me within a dreamless ecstasy. Across the constant movement of thought still lies

her silhouette, and in the sea of twilight, at the drifting of a cool aromatic breeze I dream

Ella. As I recall I first met her on a visit to the small Italian city of Naples. Although it

had been some years ago, I still remember just how she looked then. The vivid scene is

still on my mind. From the beginning I never fancied encountering her for the search of

adventure ran profuse in my mind.

As a tourist I wanted to get out and explore my surroundings. Since I had a month

away from school back in the United States, I thought this would be the perfect

opportunity to learn something new. My tourist guide, a man by the name of John

Reynolds, apparently a middle aged man with a small stature… having a noticeable bald

spot on the top of his head… gray shrieks of hair remaining on each side, led a small

group including myself. All of the individuals present were guest with me at Italy’s finest

lodgings and resorts. On our arrival to the country and after settling in the luxurious

Grand Hotel Excelsior Victoria we became acquainted. Instant friendships were formed

thereafter; and the camaraderie was prevalent among us at the commencement of the tour.

As everyone gathered about Mr. Reynolds you could sense a controlled excitement

pervading the group. We all wanted to see what lied ahead. However, our tourist guide

made certain those other persons were in attendance prior to beginning. At last, the tour

started. Through villages and at times up hills we followed our conductor. Coming to one

particular vicinity in which possessed an unusual quaintness, the group observed the

details of the place. I particularly noticed the occupied houses elevated on hills. The

streets were also rather small, I wondered how most people there were able to make their

daily commute in cars. Upon passing historical sites Mr. Reynolds stopped everyone to

explain this aspect of our exploration. I quickly learned the irony involved with such a

peaceful and beautiful city. It was pretty much created in the midst of various wars, yet

from all outward appearances you could never tell.

Proceeding ahead there were a menagerie of villages and public eating areas becoming

quite visible to us. Fully within the limits of the small assortment of brown buildings

everyone decided to stop for a bite to eat. I wasn’t the least bit of surprise when all in the

group wanted pizza. This was the top choice for tourist, although I have heard the Italians

never really invented this famous dish.

As we all agreed the restaurant most likely suitable for us, there was no hesitation to

repair to the place of our choosing. When we reached the area we were about to walk in, I

was the last in the group; however, before entering my attention was suddenly arrested. It

was on a balmy Monday when I first fastened my eyes hard upon her. I thought to myself

she could be no more than twenty years of age, Ella that is. Her eyes met mine as she

smile to indicate a subtle attraction. She had been working in her father’s olive shop that

day, apparently standing outside waiting on someone. I just had to talk to her. I wanted to

know if she was involved in a relationship, and if not I thought, maybe she would be

disposed to taking me for a friend. I distant myself from the group I had heretofore been

keeping company with to approach her. She seemed like a perfect vision, and I yearned

to converse with this delicate rose of a bouquet, this fallen gem that somehow slipped

from heaven’s richest palace.

Of the sunlight that fell across her hair… the dye from henna leaves accentuating her

long tresses… reflected from her a tint of red slightly varied. The yellow nylon dress of

viola décor against her smooth caramel skin, lined every curve on her body. The black

high hill shoes laced around her perfect feet, her toenails elegantly painted_ as if by a

skillful pedicurist_ complemented all too well the eye shadow across her eyelids. She

held me captive, this topaz jewel. When I got to where she was standing I introduced

myself and she reciprocated by telling me her name was Ella. I then asked if she was

waiting for her boyfriend, again she smiled, and told me she was to meet her girlfriend, I

sighed for relief. Ella was not slow in perceiving that I was a foreign presence, yet

because of my mixed heritage she assumed that I was from South America instead of the

United States.

We engaged in close converse each word deepened into shades of romance, and at

the nuance of body movements I could see there was starting to develop an intense kind

of passion. A golden thread of undisclosed feelings almost tangible to the soul, I

envisioned. The conversation was natural, and it seemed like we had known each other

for a long time. I asked Ella her age as she confirmed what I already knew. Both she and I

were the same age. For about thirty minutes Ella and I talked when suddenly interrupted,

her father called her to come back into the shop. He had caught sight at what was

happening, and from the disapproval in his voice, he did not want me exchanging words

with his daughter. She hurried away, but before she left she whispered to meet her at a

certain place in the evening. I was surprised, yet I made a gesture by shaking my head to

let her know I understood her.

I then again joined the company I had been with since the early morning. The sun

had fully risen, it’s rays fell on the villages surrounding the public areas. When I entered

the Italiano Restaurant I had a smile stretched across my face. My fellow tourist began to

jest concerning me. It was evident from the chuckles and laughs that they knew what was

going on as it regarded Ella and I. There was no offense taken because as fate would have

it, I was falling in love, or was already in love. After stopping for a pizza our guide

showed us more views of the tranquil country of Naples. Finally ending our tour, all made

their way back to the hotel. Upon arriving, everyone separated to return to their rooms.

The schedule to view more sights in Naples was set for later that evening. It did not take

long before the twilight fell across the sky. Many who had not attended the exploration

earlier now was present. The group I was among went a second time, and this for

educational purposes. As for me I decided to take a shower and freshen

up, I had a date.

Following my evening meal I went to meet Ella. I met her in a public area unlike the

one I saw her in earlier. There she was her long flowing hair gently lying on her back. Just

like before she did not lack in beauty, as it was obvious to me the intoxication of

symmetry ravished my heart. This one moment we spent together led to more, and the

days were not few before she graced my lips with hers. I was transfixed in the romance

that had taken control, while the many sunsets bathed in flaming orange the wide Venice

river we sailed upon. She bedazzled me by one touch of her hand, and her fingertips

dripped with eloquence on moonlit streams. It was in secret from Ella’s father we came

in each other’s presence. From what she told me he did not like me because I did

not come from a pure Italian line, and therefore detested me. Although the intrigue from

the beginning was a taboo, I endeavored to beguile the time by holding her in a caress

embrace.

Ella and I chose to ignore the old traditions of her father that once threatened love;

and notwithstanding him forbidding our keeping company, we saw each other that

much more. Though it was premature, yet mutual her and I wanted to marry. I desired her

for my wife, but how could I pass this ethnic demarcation? To elope seemed like the

more preferred choice between her and I. The month had become shorter since I arrived

in Italy, and I was soon to leave back home. Being in Ella’s company was amazing. As it

was our amusement the time we spent with each other we would escape to the

countryside to the villa that her father owned. There in the heat of noon I would lay her

Across the fragrant scented bed, and make love to her, it seemed endlessly while her body

trembled from impassioned feelings most profound.

When all had ended, she would recline her head on my chest, her breast that hung as

grapes relaxed close to me also. Far the time was spent. In our realization of this, we

Made our way back to the city in the open square. Strange I had no inkling of a thought

that on one particular night our separation would not be like the rest, but end in a sad

irony unpredicted.

The month in Naples Italy brought wedding bells in the sweetest vision, yet the

expectation was to be disappointed. As nightfall settled in, and while sitting in the

frequented places of Italy where lovers go to enjoy a secret rendezvous Ella and I held

each other freely in the evening air. Gazing into the starry sky entwined in silence, we

eventually closed our eyes in a lover’s tide. Suddenly the romantic moment was

interrupted as Ella began to distance herself from me. As I opened my eyes, I met hers

filled with much consternation. Looking over my head behind me, she seemed to be

speechless. I turned to see what her eyes averted to, and to my surprise, it was her father

approaching us hurriedly, his face flushed with anger.

Taking her by the hand, he reprimanded her for disobeying him in interacting with

one whom he uttered was not a thoroughbred. He then warned me to stay away from his

daughter. I tried to reason with him, but he became even more irrational. Finally, all

alone in complete silence, I sorrowfully watched him lead her away, until both passed

from out of sight. I never saw Ella again. Although I made visits to her home, it was of

no avail. Her father’s servant told me either she was not present, or preoccupied with

house cleaning. At length after irritating her father with my constant yearning to see her,

I was finally told not to come back on pain of death.

I left Italy without hope of ever seeing Ella or communicating with her while

away. I had no enthusiasm in returning to the United States, for I felt I had left a piece of

Me behind. Six years has passed since I last seen Ella though, and often she crosses my

Mind. In the gloaming when I glean the breath of solitude, I pensively stare into the sky

Wondering if she thinks of me as I her. Azure hue intermingled with a soft red glow

Across the distance and nights in Naples Italy with my beloved will never be effaced from

My thoughts, for I will always remember sweet Ella.

 Tags:

   Report

2 ANSWERS


  1. There is some nice imagery, but you need some assistance with punctuation. Some of your word choices seem a little off -- as though the author was well-read, but English was not the author's native tongue.


  2. little is more apt and pleasant.

    large is gargeous yet tests.

    okey it exhibits your inner longing

Question Stats

Latest activity: earlier.
This question has 2 answers.

BECOME A GUIDE

Share your knowledge and help people by answering questions.