Firenze — She looked at me tauntingly. Her eyes dancing playfully as her magnetism became harder to escape. She sat there alone in a corner, waiting, to be thrust into desperate arms. She emanates with an odor ...
Landed in Florence. Sadly, no bales of hay to be seen, although that's probably for the best. No clouds, either.
The End of it all, begins right here.
Drunk on Paintings in Tuscany
Pity they can't enjoy the view.