Today I was supposed to go to London. I was packed and had my finger on the speed dial to get a taxi when I noticed the date and dissolved in the worst panic attack I’ve had in recent memory.
What to do when irrational fear takes over your life? Book tickets to Venice, apparently. I ran away to Rome with Gabriel when the actual events unfolded all those years ago.
Italy offers the consolation of history, at the very least. All I want to do right now is stare at Caravaggio canvasses in dim churches.