Chapter 6:
The gray of the sky found little to complement the color of the approaching village. The best match for the color was cowpat green. It couldn’t be called a brown. The green moss or slime that clung to the wood gave the buildings a sickly cast about them. Less than a day away from his home and he missed the brightly colored buildings of Venice. He would never forget the warm months and the brightly painted homes reflecting off the still waters of the canals.
An unexpected tear rolled down his cheek. He knew this trip hit him hard, but he hadn’t shed a tear for many years. Not since his mother passed on. In some respects, he should be happy his family lived long enough to see his fate. Except for a sister and brother in Rome, he had no family left in Venice. Perhaps that was one
