The streets were winding and perfect, just as she imagined them. The asymmetrical stones fell into place like only an old Italian street could. The midnight black lights decorated the walls and lit up her path on her way to the center of town. She had spent years saving to get here, fighting for each penny that was deposited into her meager savings account. When Katie was young, her mother had given her a book about the priceless streets of Italy. She had almost given up her dream when her mother was diagnosed with cancer. Her savings had almost gone out the window, along with her dreams, but her mother refused the money. Now that she was here, with her mother gone, Katie’s mind was focused on the map in her hand. The maps edges were wrinkled and worn from years of use. Colors fading away from thousands of hands touching, grasping, clutching. Thousands of people like her, all with dreams of Italy. As she walked through the covered portion of the alley, she stopped to look above at the tedious perfection of the ancient bricks. Each of them was placed by a tired, laboring hand many years before. The history here was almost too much for her to believe. Katie had spent so much time buried in her books, and she still never pictured Italy being so effortlessly flawless. As she finally reached the center she watched the people surrounding her. Some were American, some Italian, some Irish, British, Chinese. They all came to experience the beauty of this timeless city. Despite the world’s wars and all of the destruction, people still manage to come together to experience something magnificent. Some radicals have given up on the world, but Katie’s faith in humanity was restored at that moment, seeing the elated faces of various people strolling by. In that moment, no one believed more in humanity than she.
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