Cherries on the terrace

A Letter from Katie Botkin in Rome:

Just to the left of the apartment building, there’s a fruitteria. Wilma tells me that if we both go out, we need to leave the keys with Mimo, the proprietor of the fruit stand, because there’s only one set. I’m rather keen to take it easy today, but a fruitteria sounds promising. I go down and for a euro, buy a small bag of ripe cherries and a peach, and then I go in the tiny grocery store next to it and buy a liter of sparkling mineral water for half a euro. I sit on the terrace of my (or mine, for a few moments) Roman apartment and eat my cherries. They are perfect, deep red, juicy.