That which haunts the city
Something is haunting this city.
Something wretched, something old.
I can feel it's presence at certain hours, in certain corners, when the ancient marble sheds it's lustre. Only in brief flashes does the presence come, in those gritty moments when the city shows her true face. With a sly wink and a nod, as if Roma's saying, "do you get it now?"
I reckon…