Room Nineteen...a shaded portico. A late afternoon sun warmed
the rough blocks of stone.
"Get out of the way!" someone called. We moved
into the yard, squinting at the strong light.
One of them sat on a marble
bench after I politely pushed some flowers aside. "Did you pick these for me?"
she asked, looking me in the eye. I had to tell her the truth.
part of the grounds someone was singing, but they couldn't make out the words.
Like children they soon became restless and impatient to see something new, so
we went on to...
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