Just About Everything

No. 6 - VICAR'S VENEER

Hey everyone,

After an obscenely long hiatus I'm here with another chapter. No excuses are good enough, honestly I disappointed myself by not writing anything for so long but... letting bygones be bygones, in the new year I'm challenging myself to get back to it. This time I even did some research for these measly written paragraphs, I'm 'so proud' of myself for being bothered enough.
Anyway, enjoy one of the first pieces and excuse the complete lack of my usually somewhat bearable ideas.

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The cobbled streets that crisscross the city from one end to another have this strange feel to them in the night-time. You wouldn't think it but the tiniest speck of light gives a completely different meaning to the light coloured squares of stone set in the ground. What provides the last notes of decadence to the spectacular harmony of off-white, lovable pink, peacock grey, tan brown and blasé beige all around the architectural masterpieces is also the one thing that has the immense power to transform the conformity and peacefulness of the place like a flick of a switch. Light, click, darkness, rest no more.

The hostile niches no longer providing a safe haven from the burning sun rays but rather an opportunity for night's servants to strike unseen, the graceful cherubs looking almost sinister in the shadows as if they were ready to strike with intent in their eyes and degrading half-smiles, the many chapels and the sounds of their bells a symphony of impending doom hiding behind the corner, searching and scanning, dissecting the souls of those in their presence and the cobblestones. The tremors traveling under one's feet like the Vesuvius of danger prepared to erupt at any second and take everyone with it, evil's messengers everywhere around, yet nowhere to be seen. Black cats with and their soft paws hitting the ground, pigeons hiding on the rooftops, even the Adige and its subtle change in flow, nothing can conceal the ominous notes in the air swooshing around, hugging the Castelvecchio's walls, making the nearby trees dance, tossing her long chestnut locks. The weight of the vial assuring, present in her pocket. The idea of a paradise in the middle of Veneto is nothing but a fable the young ones get told by the privileged few who can afford to live in denial.

Verona, the centrepiece of pearl necklace hides its vultures in plain sight. Murderers, criminals, all the scum is strangely honest in its miserable existence, the real evil sits elsewhere. Clothed in the finest robes, reins of power held tightly, not wavering, not letting up even for a moment. This, no heaven, this, this is hell itself. And the church, how laughable they are! Their majestic thrones and opulent banquets, weaving the threads of everyone around them into a tapestry suiting their own tastes. She thinks, as the wind catches her cape in its claws for a moment and she hurries to pull it back to conceal her face from the world. The red behind her nails still not gone, tiny specks suspended like little rubies, not going away. The urge to rub the palms together till they disappear so strong, yet completely useless, the marks on the inside permanent forever.

What a foolish move this has been. The familiar hold this place has over her is here again, catching, desperately grasping for her. What if they get her? There's no safe place, no sanctuary at all in this hostile hole. The sound of her shoes hitting the ground catches her off guard and makes her look up. The piazza almost scary with its open spaces and all-knowing presence, like an arena where she is the lion, trying to beat the gladiator and fight for its life, the Arena in the middle with its majestic arches a cruel reminder of these times. And yet still so beautiful, the full moon illuminating the world with a soft crystal like shower, so beautiful, yet so dangerous.

Almost there, just a few more minutes and they will stand eye to eye again. What will he think? She was doubtful at first, hearing whispers on the streets that there was no time to spare but curiosity and that tiny speck of sentiment got the best of her. That's why she left the assignment and now decided to look into the man's eyes one last time. For he deserves to see it for himself, work of the divine in reality, the truth and nothing but that. What he created and what's in there, what's left.