September 3, 2011
Pazienza. A Sicilian mantra.
For one full year, I had the patience of a saint.
My favorite al fresco coffee bar sat at the foot of this scaffolding.
Each morning the sandblasted stone let loose an angry flurry of grit, turning my laptop a dusty gray.
Eyes stung, ears hurt.
Dustless coffee. Noiseless pastry.