The brook steps of Italy, in its day and night street like performance, are full in its pockets yet bare in its shadows. About the way of Down Town Melini, the prosperous ghetto to the East side of Tran City, San Tonio: a city of the city: twis and twas lively of preposterous altitude and flexibility. To be legit-ly and nationally dicked the undercut name of "The Ellegal". A center of illegal matrimony mixed with the volunteerism of civil life. Here demons continue to live, from the top and the bottom, about the corners of alley ways; where a common sweet treat, for women and men, sully the definition of many words, "Thong" specifically. And 'daily business', and the 'perfect haul' covered for terms of the dead or the gains and losses to a person: physically or financially. A dark city, to where one participates, only to begin with one puff, till all they exhale are the years they never left. Melini, named after the stripper of such a courting, buzzed ablaze with the gunfire and adjacent contemporary greetings of its hospitalities and business.
From the grandmother to the granddaughter aiding in the run of the family bar: "Don't take them errands today. I know that boy's got you hangin with him about his duties."
"Ah, Mama. It's not like that. It's business." The granddaughter says, filing through her makeup case to adjust her appearance to a meet, greet, etc.
" They'll be active all about. I wan't'cha works to be of the back. Keep your face from the tinder!" screamed the old woman, while amidst zipping and pitching the fine makeup purse into the vault under the tender.
"Ah! Mama!" It's only half done!" She rushed to the vault; locked and unmoving. "At least my make-up remover?"
"Nah! Now get back their! Use a rag, them customers'l have com, and you'll only bug me with more work wit'ch your mak'up and jolly. Now go, and no more fuss." Shooing her granddaughter away with a fine pat to her behind, the girl rushed out from behind the counter as the doors announced the beginning of a hard days work.
As usual, the granddaughter started up the first requests of the Sundays. The chimes of juke box jazzy, as they called her, started a boogie to any morning, and a spark to the first customers coffee. A fine young man, darker cut, squared faced handsome, emerged from the entrance trailed by two of the finest men in Melini. The old woman, informally addressed them.
"Hah, so early in the mornin! Do young men only have prannies on their minds?" She stated while finishing the shine of a small glass before filling it with a cool maple tea. To which she altered with a table spoon of honey, and sprinkles of raspberry and lemon leaf. The old woman continued about her business leaving the cup atop the tender. One gentlemen from the back excused himself from his party, approaching the counter to receive his expectations of a good substitute for coffee.
"Ouch." The old woman slapped his hand for reaching.
"Aish! Children from the streets have good reason to grab and go. But where do you get off the same?"
"Mdme. Ruum., One comes from, and grows fondly of old habits. Therefore, I reach for... your great productions." The old woman blushed, with a chuckle, adding another cube of sugar before sliding the cup to the edge of the tender.
"Ahja, your tongue should be swallowed." The man laughed while enjoying his spoils from relations: as treats come free this way.
"You know me so well, Mdme. Ruum. Ha-Ha Ha!" he laughed jollily. The second patron tended the juke box for further amusement; where none was given, as silence got nothing, whether deemed respectful or not. The first joined Ahja at the tender.
"Greetings, Mdme. Ruum." he said customarily. The woman continued to listen, but marked her actions as having finer things to do about her time. He began his introduction, which came to be interrupted anyway. "We came on behalf of our wife. Her and I personally wish to tend to any of your "disregards" during the day." Ahja continued to distract him with enjoyable sounds of tea which pleased 1 of 3 appetites in this bar. He had been awoken so abruptly, shimmied out of bed- NO!-The House! :and was told not to come back until he had first born news of Mdme. Ruum's weekly endeavors. Thus, the cinnamon roll, that so-conveniently trollied its way along the palm of Mdme Ruum's hand to just-in-front of him, began the battle between a daze shamed with aspirations to drool for the luscious pastry.
"A hungry man's belly is no practice to begin work. HA-" she paused, "That woman is the only acception to you three. Now eat." He took the cinnamon role, savoring the flavors his wife denied him this morning till his work was met by percent.
"I shouldn't but thank you, Mdme."
"Ah, stop it, Emry. No wife never thinks. She'ws aware I'd feed y'ur hungry stares. Now, w'nce y'ur finished with that, we can discuss affairs."
"That's right, where's Emilia?" pitched Ahja. They questioned the old woman by face only, but got nothing.
"Ignorance is bliss I guess, even for the old." said Emry amidst taking his chance to gulp down half of Ahja's tea. The simply tanned man protested, but Emry coughed at the spark of super sweet and bitter after taste.
"By Gods among us!" Ahja screamed. "Balls to you, to steal my drink. (followed by a ton of other curses till Emry choked at the comment to their wife and children.) Ha! Mdme. Ruum. You see what my mornings are like. I'm the second, and as numbers would have it, I should be first. But here, and there, I get nothing."
"Oh, shut it." reported Emry. "She treats you with enough attention to fill her life span millenniums over!"
"Not at the expense of a good tea from Mdme. Ruum's. With that said, you should send Emilia home with us, Mdme. Could be a life savor for my time alone with Rusha!"
"Ha. No way in HELL are you getting her..." From around the corner, at the juke box was Emilia; who pitched in at the call of her name without the recognition of her presence. "Mama!"
"..for free."
"Mamma-!" The old woman turned grabbing a few dishes.
"Fine, she can go, but only for this Sunday. I don't wanna have to tend this store alone, or worry 'bout them other things of yours." The two men chuckled.
"Nothing goes down near home."
"That's right, but stupid carcasses exist. Even in the time of Rusha's governing." The old woman pulled a small folded paper from her apron pocket. "Here, this is what she asked for." Emry took the paper without a seconds notice.
"Thank you, Mdme. Ruum. We shall have it taken care of."
"Hmph.. "The woman puffed. "Be on your way, your fill'n dime." The men stood then, and bowed, leaving the small bar with extra hours to their day, and baby sitter Emilia in tail through the crowded streets of Menili; where the port dock sun brightened the dust of homes from windows, doors, carpets, street cats, and their leather shoes under the summer mist.
