They watched the show from the seclusion of a theater booth that hung far enough from that stage to a point from which they could freely speak to one another and be spared from disturbing the audience. Under the enchanting lull of a piano, they lounged against each other, speaking with made up words and laughter, the rolling of arpeggios intoxicating them. The day had been long. They’d walked through the Vatican colonnades, seen the Colosseum, and zipped through narrow streets on a vespa together between both attractions. Meals they shared were savory and filling, quiet hours on the grass were lazy and refreshing. They lived several lifetimes over in a day, exchanged entire biographies and ended it all now, interlinked above a cacophony of heavenly music. She stopped speaking and paid closer attention to the music. She predicted ever note, she knew everything now. The mysteries of the world had been revealed and she grew restless. She felt as if she’d done all she needed to do with him.