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The Art of Breaking the Ice

Paris, 12 august, 4h30 pm. 

A vintage Renault 4L is parked outside The Alexander III Bridge. I approach the car; it is a real beauty. A man, frozen in awe, is photographing it intensely. There aren’t many people around other than a couple travelers exhausted by the heat. Let’s see now… The tiny trunk only holds a few flavors. I don’t say much to the ice cream man even though I know we have the same name. In Rome we would be two Fabrizio’s and in Rome the heat would be more natural than in Paris, which would ease the conversation between us.

Quickly I say: “ One scoop of raspberry please!” I pay for my ice cream and hunt for shade. The raspberry melts at great speed. I have a feeling that the ice cream from the 50’s wouldn’t have suited me as I imagine them more chemical and sugary. I’d like the get to the bottom of this with the help of an expert….

 

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