From the Sky - Part V

When Grandfather and Gio got to the counter, the woman they found there was not one Carlo's broken-hearts. She stood there waiting, shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair falling over an olive green blouse. An expensive Italian purse hung from her shoulder. She wore leather boots over long, flawless legs, and a smart black skirt.

Grandfather and Gio were struck dumb. The four of them regarded each other: the woman, two suddenly mute men, mouths half open as if they were about to speak yet standing perfectly still, like a pair of figures in a wax museum. And, of course, Sal, who had never seen such behavior from either man, and knew instinctively that some type of wheel had been set in motion and suspected already things wouldn't end well.

"Yes?" said the woman at last.

Nothing from either man.

"Yes?" she asked again.

"Yes?" both men repeated simultaneously, but still they stood frozen.

The woman waited patiently another moment, and then shook her head.

"I'm looking for a painter," she said in a soft voice with just the hint of a German accent.

And so, it began...

Freedom lost...

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