August 12, 2021

Little towns like the one pictured below are what summer dreams are made of. At least, my summer dreams. Mismatched sheets hanging from wrought iron balconies, fishing boats cluttering the port. I imagine walking barefoot from the beach to our pensione, washing sand out of my hair and then sitting on a balcony drinking cold white wine and watching old men playing Briscola in the square below.


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