Tours of Volterra
This is what I think happened on one of Heidi's hunting trips.
1. Chapter 1 Heidi
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I watched as she entered the room. We had been waiting in line for hours, hoping to go on the tour. When the guide finally arrived, she was beautiful. She had long, dark hair, and she looked like a model, but she had the most bizarre eye colour. Her eyes were a strange shade of violet, almost like red contacts on blue eyes.
"Are we ready to leave?" she asked. Her voice was musical, and when she spoke, it sounded like she was singing. No one else spoke. I thought they were all shocked. The woman was not only extremely beautiful, but also extremely fashionable. Fashionable, yet completely covered up, even on this hot, sunny day.
Most of the men in the room seemed to notice her statuesque figure immediately, and every wife there watched with obvious disapproval. That must have been why it was so quiet. The guys had just remembered to wipe the drool from their chins, while the women were either wondering where she shopped, or plotting to find out where she lived so they could kill her in her sleep.
"My name is Heidi," she continued "I'll be your guide this afternoon. I'm sorry to have kept everyone waiting so long. The last group took longer than expected." She smiled then, and it seemed like there was mire to the story than what she was telling us. I wondered what had held the other group up. Some little kid had probably puked on the bus because of the heat and she had had to clean it up. But I doubted she'd smile at that particular memory. Who knows what it was. At least we were finally about to go on the tour.
Apparently it was an extremely popular tour, judging by how many people signed up, but I hadn't been able to find any reviews online. There was the description the company had put out, and it was so expensive, it must be excellent, but something had been nagging me all day about it.
Something about it felt wrong somehow. I had no idea what, or why, because everything seemed fine. Maybe it was one of those premonitions people had before their car crashed or something like that. Usually, my gut feelings, like this one, were pretty good. Last year, I'd decided not to go to a party, and they had ended up calling the cops on the party. Everyone there had gotten in so much trouble. Or when my teachers would give a pop quiz, I had usually chosen the night before to study, and ended up doing really well, while the rest of the class nearly failed. And, in that case, I shouldn't have gotten on the bus, but tried to forget about it, and got on the bus with everyone else.
We boarded the bus without any major problems. Something was still nagging me, but I quickly brushed that aside. As we drove through the streets of Italy, on our way to Volterra, Heidi began to explain the sights.
Everything began to fall into the typical tour routine. Heidi definitely kept the attention of the group, and seemed like she really knew what she was talking about, like she had actually been to many of the events that made these places famous, which was, of course, impossible. They had happened hundreds of years ago.