The red suitcase is only a couple of years old. Not only did the red flash my eyes but the big black butterfly on both sides. I used to be an all-black traveler. We often search for a small painting to bring home as a memento. And the “ Gypsy on the Balcony of Europe” called to us. So we went hunting for a suitcase of the right size and not cluttered up with compartments on the interior. She could not be—would not be—rolled or tubed, she was very particular about her treatment.
Every piece of luggage was too long or too short, too wide or too thin, (kind of like a lot of travelers, makes it tough to fit into airplane seats) until the black butterfly! Standing in the open doorway of the luggage/magazine/candy shop, the butterfly rested. Hesitating I knocked on the semi-hard sides, noted the all-around zipper—black—a shiny lock, and the reasonable price—at least for two large black butterflies on either side of a shiny red suitcase. The inside boasted no shoe pouch, cosmetic, or hanger fittings. Would the gypsy consider this as traveling in style, or would she think it gaudy?
The next morning after chocolate and churros I hurried back to the main shopping street armed with the measurements that would be the deciding factor, ole’ she would fit! The purchase completed, I happily wheeled the suitcase down the street to the art gallery where the gypsy stayed. Admiring glances all the way.
But would she agree to come home with us?