In the year 1348, while the Black Death went scything through Italy, ten young people took refuge in the countryside outside of Florence. To pass the days as they waited for the Reaper to be on his way, they told each other stories.
On the second day of story-telling they elected Filomena their queen. She demanded from each of them a tale of misfortune, which must end unexpectedly with happiness. So one by one they went stumbling through hazards and sorrows, until ten happy endings left them breathless under the setting sun.
Then, as on the first day, they all looked up from Boccaccio’s dusty pages and waited to hear what I would say.
“We enjoyed your first story very much,” said Filomena, “and we appreciate that you told it according to our fourteenth century customs. But we beg you to speak more freely and in keeping with your own times. Shock us if you must. We won’t hold the centuries against you.”
So I told them a tale from my own time, inventing at will as I went along.
the tale of the Ford
Once upon a time there was a
2013 Ford Fusion
tuxedo black with beige interior
front wheel drive
some kind of engine
The lady wanted seven thousand for it, but Josh had talked her all the way down to five. On condition that he paid cash today.Continue reading “The Decameron Stories – Day Two”