A Dangerous Craving 

I’m a voice actor and audio producer who is working on my first novel. When I’m not indulging my creative juices, I’m either petting my cat, eating too many carbs, or running along the shores of Lake Michigan. The following is a short story inspired by my sweet tooth and my adoration of Italy. Learn more about my projects at LauraBotten.com.

Committing a crime wasn’t on Wanda’s agenda while on assignment in Rome, but she had no choice but to break in and take what she needed. Her transgression was hidden underneath the violet shadows of night tucked in the crevices of the city’s cobbled center. It was Travel Brain that would lead to her downfall: Did they drive on the right side of the road in Italy or the left? Nearly flattening a man on a scooter answered that question, the bright orange ash of his cigarette coming at Wanda like a warning sign, his filthy habit managing to, ironically, save his life. As she swerved her yellow Pasquali rental wildly, all three tires screeching, her red waves lurched in sync with the car’s erratic movement. The sirens of the carabinieri rang out loud enough to echo through all the piazzas of the Eternal City. 

So, they do drive on the right side. 

Shaken by the close call, Wanda decided to flee the police by abandoning the comically small car and running. Before she slammed the daisy-colored door, she reached in to grab her stolen valuables—she didn’t come this far to fail her mission. The sirens grew nearly as loud as the grumble in her stomach that had been shouting since her morning granola bar on the train. She should have run immediately, but she couldn’t risk her loot being confiscated by the authorities. She reached into the bag, now illuminated by flashing blue lights, grabbed one of the items she’d been targeting for months, brought it to her mouth, and crunched down hard, nearly chipping a tooth. “Non ti muovere!” the officer shouted, cuffing her roughly only seconds later. Don’t move! But being arrested in the middle of the night couldn’t stop a celebratory smile from spreading on Wanda’s face as the taste of her nonna’s biscotti recipe lingered on her tongue. She’d finally found the right café.