It was the last church, abbey, monastery, basilica, sanctuary, minor or major. In the morning at 3 AM or so I would have to get up, pack, ride the elevator down, toss my key in the basket, walk out the front door, and be outside ready to walk up the drive hill to catch our bus to Fiumicino by 4:30 AM. I had struggled most of the day reconciling the written word of The Hat with the real possibility that the last day had arrived. There is always a last day. The point at which someone says, Well, I guess it is over then. It is. The churches got more interesting as we went along as they were architecturally made of simple lines, with light coming in around corners some way escaping into the space. We walked down the Aventine back into the city of dreams, stumbling across it to another pizza place. It was good.
November 8th, 2015
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