A girl leans back her chair against the yellowing wallpaper of a dimly lit room. Murmuring noise, all around, fills her ears. Smoke fills her nose and hangs in clouds around the room. Beams of light shine in through the cracks in the shutters on the windows to her left and through through the curtain on a window over her head. She leans her head back and begins to drift to sleep.
A large man bursts through the doors, but the girl does not notice him. He has a large silouette and he's holding something in his hands. He walks towards her, making a steady pace. But still, she does not notice him. He is nearly upon her. His face, for a brief moment, is lit up by a stray beam of light. It glances over his stubble, his thick moustache, his unruly eyebrows, his plumb red nose and the scar on his left cheek. He's over her now; he dwarfs her. He reaches out towards her and grabs her shoulder and yells, in a rumbling and thick Italian accent -
"STROMBOLI for table FIFTEEN!"
Gina lunged forward, the legs of her chair slammed against the tile floor, "Pops! Y'scared me, geez!"
The old man beamed, "Heh heh. Here's your stromboli, peccola."
Regina sighs and smiles at the same time, "Thanks papa."
The old man smiles and kisses her cheek and she returns it. He sits down next to her and takes a remote control of out a pocket on his apron. The Sunday lunch crowd was dying down and soon the last customers would be leaving. As he cycles through the channels, rubbing his chin as he decides on what to watch, Regina begins to chow down on her stromboli with an animalistic fervor.
Gina's father settles on the Channel 6 news.
<< BREAKING NEWS: Four dead after shooting in East San Marzano. Police suspect the shootings to be gang-related. Perpetrators still unknown. >>
Gina's father shakes his head and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms.
"You know, back in my day, being a Bomber, it meant something y'know? They stood for something. Now it's all about... how many of the other ones you can kill before you get killed. It don't mean nothing."
"Whatever you say, pops." Gina chuckles between bites before standing up.
"Woah, hey where're you going?"
"I don't know, to hang out or something."
"Without even telling your old man goodbye? I raised you better."
Gina giggles, "Bye, papa."
He laughs, "Bye, peccola."
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