by George Such

As we amble through Napoli, Bethany peeks inside a market and decides she wants an apple.  I give her a five thousand lire note and tell her she should get about four thousand lire back in change. She walks into the store holding the bill in her hand.  The owner, a plump man with a rough mustache and liquid brown eyes slinks toward her without seeming to move his feet.  Suddenly he snatches the bill from her, stuffs it into his pants pocket, and asks her in good English: What would you like?

George Such is a graduate student studying English at Western Washington University in Bellingham, Washington; in a previous incarnation he was a chiropractor for twenty-seven years in eastern Washington. When he is not busy studying, he enjoys hiking in the Bellingham area, experimenting in his kitchen, and learning to sail. When he is studying, he drinks a lot of black tea. His poems have appeared in Arroyo Literary Review, Blue Earth Review, Cold Mountain Review, Crab Creek Review, Dislocate, Permafrost, Roanoke Review, The Sow’s Ear Poetry Review, and several other journals.