Sunday Snippet: Da Vinci in Love by Maysam Yabandeh

Posted July 28, 2019 by Jen in Sunday Snippet Tags:

Da Vinci in Love

Author: Maysam Yabandeh
Publisher: self-published
Release Date: April 7, 2019
Genre: Romantic Suspense


They wouldn’t return your salute, don’t bother.

Don’t you see the heads are thrust in collars?

It is freezing cold!

Even if you do extend your hand in affection,

Reluctantly they would stretch out theirs from cozy pockets.

For it is winter.

So why bother?

“That was it?” she asks him with a disappointed face.

“Well, yeah, don’t you like it?”

“No, no, sure, absolutely,” Silvia responds, “I mean, doesn’t a poem suppose to rhyme or something?”

This slaps Leonardo in the face, very hard. He cannot believe his ears. He has stopped breathing. It is as if the time has stopped. He is no longer in his body; he is high in the sky, looking down on the whole situation, and trying–very hard–to make some sense out of it. Here he is, the greatest poet alive–at least this is what he thinks of himself–standing right before her, baring his soul, revealing the most profound truth about life itself, in most delicate form imaginable, and there she is, just a woman–granted not bad-looking–trying to fit the masterpiece that is generously presented to her into jingles! Looking for rhymes? F***ing rhymes?!!!

The time resumes again. Leonardo let all the breath out at once, takes a deep breath, and says with grinding teeth: “The meaning, the core, the emotions are–”

“What the fox say, Wa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pow! Wa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pow!” Silvia’s cell rings. ‘What Does The Fox Say?’ is the ring tone.

“Where are you now?” she answers the phone. “I am next to this giant red car. Pete is talking to me.”

“Leo,” Leonardo jumps in.


“My name is Leo.”

“Yeah,” she responds with a dismissive tone, and turns her face away.

“Can you see me now? I am waving my hand,” she says on the phone.

“What the fox say? Hatee-hatee-hatee-ho! Hatee-hatee-hatee-ho!” The song is heard from away, and it is getting louder and louder. Michele in his duchy sports car is approaching. The song is played from the even douchier loud speakers of his car.

“Where is my sugar? Theeeere she is,” Michele says the cheesy, played-out line.

What an untalented, illiterate, fake piece of sh**, Leonardo thinks. “Cannot even make up his own lines. I bet he can’t even say a full sentence.” His shirt has most of the buttons unbuttoned. Hairy bastard, Leonardo thinks. He has a piece of fabric artlessly wrapped around his neck, might have meant to be an ascot. A giant ‘Giorgio Armani’ sticker is still on the side of his sunglasses. I bet it has fallen off multiple times, but he has used superglue to stick it back there, Leonardo thinks.

“Why are you so late? I am f***ing bored,” Silvia asks while jumping on the front seat. Her big breasts bounce up and down. Is she wearing a bra? Leonardo wonders.

“Sorry babe. Traffic,” Michele responds dismissively. He is not even trying to sound genuine. His hand is on her knees, perhaps even up her short skirt; not quite clear from where Leonardo is watching.

“On a Tuesday?” she asks rhetorically. She had gotten very close to his face, staring right into his eyes to make him feel at least a bit guilty.

“Give me some sugar,” is all he responds, stealing a kiss from her. She rushes to her purse to reapply the thick red lipstick on her lips.

Michele, out of words, steps on the gas pedal, and drives away quickly to wrap up the conversation part of their date. The car is gone, but the exhaust’s thick smoke has remained, and spreads all over Leonardo. He coughs as he watches the car driving away, with Silvia in it.

His backpack falls off, and a couple of his books fall out on the ground of the parking lot. He takes a long look at them; they look a mile away from his reach. He reluctantly leans forward to pick them up. His head feels heavy. He grabs the backpack, but does not get up. The gravity invites him to fall, and he finds no reason to resist.

He sits down on the ground in the middle of the parking lot, staring at the direction that Silvia left with Michele. He hugs his knees, rest the side of his face on them, sighs, and says, “Why bother?”

About the Book:

The identity of the lady portrayed in Mona Lisa, the masterpiece of Leonardo Da Vinci, and the secret behind her mysterious smile, is one of the biggest unanswered questions in art history. This is the story of her, and her romance with her creator, the young Leonardo. The story takes us from the land of true lovers, India, to the far east, the heights of mysterious wisdom in China, and sheds some light on the puzzling love story of Mona Lisa and her painter, Leonardo Da Vinci.

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