15Roman HolidayHigh above, the painting stretched out in all its Renaissance glory. There were sighs and whispers of “beautiful,” “beau,” and “belissimo,” by the people who stood alongside her. But Tazia, who had stood still too long, and stared so hard her neck was locked and stiff, had no further admiration to give. Was five minutes enough? Ten? Could she move on now? Some people had been staring for an hour. Perhaps, there was a code she was unaware of.
She started to rotate her neck gingerly, but feeling the grind at the top of her spine and the spasm of pain that shot across her shoulders, she stopped, and instead, bobbed it forward and back until it loosened. Being human sucked.
Around her a couple of tiny children were chasing each other, circling a pile of prayer books balanced p
