Grandmother’s Enoteca - Short Story
Grandmother’s Enoteca By: JD Devine The early morning vaporetto rocked against its dock, creaking against the worn wooden pylons as the briny scent of the lagoon drifted through the air. Caterina emptied her pockets on the old marble counter of the Enoteca , her grandmother’s old wine bar. Keys clicked on the marble—the heavy brass one for the front door, the slim silver key for the wine cellar, the modern steel key for her apartment. Her phone clanked down next to the keys, then the red Vaporetto pass, and finally a few coins sang against the stone. But not the locket. She touched her neck as her heart stumbled. The locket’s absence felt like a cold space on her skin; she had worn it every day since her grandmother’s funeral last spring. Through the arched windows, pigeons strutted across water-stained stones squawking to each other, their iridescent necks flashing purple and green in the early morning light. The autumn a...