Venice: An Acrostic Kate Kwok 1. Velvety Two scoops of rich caramel, rolled into fists, dripping with perspiration and frost. Upon close inspection, the texture almost resembles soft leather, with a waxy, shiny finish. But this is not a feast for the eyes; it’s a sensation exclusive to the tongue. You take a bite—a shockwave of iciness, then a smooth sweetness gliding in, like snow melting in fire, leaving a resounding aroma of roasted pistachio on the tip of your tongue. Such is the magic of gelato. 2. Ebb Sitting on the docks, you wait for the never-coming waterbus. The world has shattered itself in a bottle of lapis lazuli and swum back up again, drenched, broken, but beautiful. Ripples form the canvas; white sails adorn the paper; the distant cries of seagulls were the constant background music in this outdoor art exhibition. Watch as the white tips of the waves glisten in the dying pink sunlight. Watch as the water rushes towards the dockyard in a sweeping motion to engulf you, to retreat just as suddenly at the breakwater. Boom, hiss. Boom, hiss. Listen. 3. Nocturne The sound of exploding fireworks accompanies your feet dragging home. You can’t see them clearly; they’re too far away, but you hear them screaming in a split second of glory. It’s a synesthetic spectacle: the high-pitched reds harmonizing with the steady bass of purples. The golden semitones levitating in mid-air, decorating the symphony. You want to fall asleep, but you never feel more awake than this moment.
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