I set out, crossed the first floor which was still musty from the receded waters and shut the heavy front door behind me, happily aware of how quiet the calli still were. Sounds of gentle sweeping, suitcases rolling over the cobblestone on the way to the vaporetto or the ferrovia, conversation bouncing off the narrow lanes' walls, the distant clinking of stacked espresso cups at the bar... And soon, to those heartwarming sounds, my own footsteps on the Venetian pavement, up and down its bridges, around corners and corners of its infinite maze.
I hadn't ventured far when my head instinctively faced my right. An arch stood as a gateway, its bricks betraying its age, telling tales of centuries past. It was a portal to a tranquil lane guarded by pretty flower boxes and façades of various ocher and peach hues.
The memory of rain lingers on the pavement, storing tiny reflections like little secrets of the universe.
I smiled. How could you not, when your heart sings? #mademelook