Creative Non-Fiction Short Stories. :) Travel, Oldsters, Love, and Compassion.
He doesn’t speak English, but he speaks Bon Jovi. He wears a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a necklace with some sort of animal tooth or claw. He’s handsome when you overlook the accessory. I’m having such an odd experience. In the city of Mozart, “Livin’ on a Prayer” is blaring from the radio. My new friends and I are driving through Vienna, crossing the First District. I am looking out the window at the immaculate, wedding-cake like Hapsburg palaces while my friends sing the English lyrics with varying degrees of success. We’re going to a Latin club to try salsa dancing. I’m trying to think of another cultural experience to add when they switch from chit chatting in German to calling out directions in Turkish. I laugh aloud at this very small world and consider this the icing on the cake.