That’s Amore…?

I have started drafting a new character for a story set in Italy about different generations of women and the men in their lives.  Nonna is obviously not happy with her choice of man!

Nonna slapped the espresso machine into existence and steam gathered in a cloud on the mirror over the bar.  She glared in the mirror into the middle distance and swore under her breath.  Her good-for-nothing husband was sitting there as usual like a fat salami in the square with all his friends.  She shoved the milk jug under the frother like she was holding his head under a tap.  He sat there enjoying himself while she did all the hard work as usual.   Her assault on the coffee machine came to a halt and she poured two caffe lattes out into massive china bowls.  She carried them over to a table and came back to the counter for two brioche and some paper serviettes.  “Gianna, come down amore.  Breakfast!”  She sat down in the booth and waited for her grand-daughter to appear.  She wouldn’t bother to make her husband breakfast or sit down and eat it with him. 

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