Day 51: Bassano del Grappa

It was a prickly day. Little grievances poking up through the cracks, the dry spaces no place is immune to. The gaps where faith and providence run wide and you're left alone with your worries, spilling the coffee three times.

But then, someone else notices. And she says she'll take you to lunch. To the place on the corner with a little mod fireplace and wooden beams that hold [everything] together inside.

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