September 25th, Rome.
Slap!
The book closed gently, and atop the broad desk were piles of ancient tomes with quaint covers, worn by the passage of time. A slightly rough palm caressed the smooth and polished mahogany furniture, lifting a steaming cup of coffee to the nose, the vapor swirling into the nostrils like white mist.
"Sigh...."
A somewhat melancholy sigh escaped the man's lips as he put down the coffee, stood up, and grabbed a croissant from the plate at the corner of the desk. He pushed open the balcony window, crumbled the pastry into fine crumbs, and held them at the tips of his fingers.
Coo coo....
Coo coo....
