Everyone’s on the phone.
The boatmen, the vaporetto drivers, the polizotti, the fishmongers, the buskers, the drunks.
The passers by.
The passers by:
Venetians walk fast – this is a walking city – each with a phone pressed tight to his skull, talking as fast as he walks.
(A few have earphones and appear to be talking loudly to themselves).
I look at these people in utter disbelief:
what on earth do they have to say that can possibly be worth saying? And who is listening, and – why?
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Have fun and don't let any false sense of politeness stop you. (I don't read the comments anyway, but some of my readers may).