The First Hour



The First Hour


It was the hour of the street cleaners. 

What hour would that be? I hear you asking. 8:00...not that early, but not late either, as far as the rising goes. But this is a subjective matter.

In New York the streets would be popping, bustling like a bee hive. But here, the day has barely begun–just waiters in a few cafés are balancing coffees for the early birds overlooking the sea. Not everyone is open...an Italian owned cafè down the street has just enough space to see some feet under the shop window.


 

Text and  Photo: Kristen Mastromarchi

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