The Wistful Skyline
Chapter One The water in the canals ran high and black, reflecting the grey stone of the warehouses where the rice from the valley was weighed, counted, and stored, a commerce of mud and grain that bound the families of Venice in a web of debt and obligation so tight it felt less like a city and more like a single, breathing lung. I was Luigi Aiello, the ferryman who kept the only boat across...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews