Standing on the big terrace I watched the Ape carrying a load of crosses round the piazza. One to the ironmongers, one for the headquarters of the blood donors, one for the butcher:
'But where shall I put it", he asked struggling to hold it upright as it was taller than him and quite robust.
"Put it where you like", snapped the ironmonger's daughter.
The butcher looked pained and, shouldering it manfully, disappeared into his shop. Perhaps he plans to put out a good display of Easter lamb, prosciuttos, and his delicious salamis and finocchionas he makes from his own pigs.
There's to be the Via Crucis tonight but that's no reason to miss a marketing opportunity in these hard times.
No comments:
Post a Comment