mantide religiosa

Walking down the streets of Sorrento at night, after dinner. It was a passagero, one of those evening walks that happen in the summer, in the Mediterranean. Sorrento’s is particularly nice, as everyone dresses the part, looks their best, and enjoys the night on the street with no cars or motos. But I felt disconnected, alone. A cipher to the vacationing Italians, the touring groups, the shopkeepers. Only swimming into focus when it looks like I might want to give someone some Euros. I decided to have a gelato, and give someone some Euros. Walking up to an outdoor counter, I waited for service. Looking at the flavors through the gelato sneeze guard, I noticed a large brown praying mantis. No one around to take my order. I started poking at the mantis to see what s/he would do. They react aggressively, so it’s fun to see them rear up and spin around to threaten my finger. An gelateria attendent comes up and sees me and the mantide. She lets out a yelp, calls to her co-workers. They all start telling me different things. Stop! Cool! What is that? Ew! Don’t let it get in the ice cream! Then passersby stop, starting asking me about it. Did I bring it? Why am I touching it? Fractured English. Particles of Italian. Suddenly, I’m connecting to everyone around me. And I hadn’t given anybody any Euros yet.