I ignored the Splendid. I avoided the Treasures. I just couldn’t.
I just couldn’t.
I moved slowly along the cracks.
Where the small called.
The taste of salt caught between the leaves of a fried artichoke.
The bite of death escaping a corner butcher shop.
The shush of pigeon wings along a shadowed street.
The curl of a beggar’s hand at a church door.
This could be anywhere. I could be anyone.
I gave in to the glimpse, the snatch, the whatever.
And the windows.
Always the windows.
And all their unexpected, layered revelations.
Their unintended gifts.