mezzo astice

The temperature in Savudrija in July is always high. The restaurant sits beneath the lighthouse, doors open to the sun and large windows to the sea. The door opens. Sun strikes in patches. Terracotta tiles catch heat from the day, cold under bare feet once inside. Temperature shifts sharply. Anxiety rises. Tiptoeing on their fishbone pattern, I feel in the belly of the whale. Ceiling fan spins slowly, rhythm steady. Square tables hold white, perfectly ironed cloths. Straw chairs creak under bare thighs, and marks will last where they meet my skin well into the evening. Voices are low, adults only.

Bread arrives. Fingers brush crumbs. The sugar dips. Wine arrives, too. I fill myself with both.
A woman reads a newspaper at the corner table. Her husband leans back, gaze fixed outside, tracing the line of the horizon. I follow his gaze, and maybe in our unbeknown shared imagination, we are on the same boat. Servers move on small wheels, zigzagging among the tables, balancing plates and trays. Salad bowls pass: fresh, crunchy greens, but tomatoes limp from the heat, water leaking into the dressing.

The main course appears, a half-lobster in a glass bowl, covered by spaghetti ready to be coiled around forks. Steam rises. I cut the threads short to avoid choking. Oil glistens while herbs cling to the edges. The crust of garlic, fresh parsley and fish juices hold on to my lips, salt layering over taste and quiet gestures. Glasses lift again, tilt, sip. Utensils scrape, pause, move again. The ritual repeats on table after table.

I suck and lick, repeatedly. Chop, suck, lick. Greedy. My lips now coated in salt and garlic, parsley and oil and fish juice. Wine slides down. The taste is full. Immediate. Sharp. Hot and cold.

Outside, the sun beats. Inside, the fan turns.
Movement, light, sound, and heat circulate, unnoticed by some.

Every visit, the same.
I have learned to fix my gaze outside, too, tracing the line of that horizon.
"I don't want to be here, with you" is hard to say when you are scared of choking on spaghetti.