Day 8: Bassano del Grappa

This was the day we found the path. The one that went a little bit beyond the others. The one that looked like a dead end until we found the curve in the wall, the optical illusion at the end of the curtain of leaves. The one that I thought must have been pulled back just for me.

There was graffiti. And a little gnome perfectly perched, waiting behind a garden gate. His chubby hand paused in a wave I noticed between the bars. A joke? An oversight? Alive?

This laugh, I know, was just for me.

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