Chapter 6
The return
(Tancredi)
It wasn't the glorious return I’d dreamt of.
Certainly not the one that seven years ago, suitcase in hand, I told myself I’d make if I were ever to return and tread the streets of this city. There were plenty of reasons for leaving, too many even and what’s more, with the exception of my family, I don't think anyone has missed me in all this time. I don’t remember any damp handkerchiefs or sorrowful friends at the airport on the day I caught my flight. My reasons were no better than those of many others.
They were just fuelled by a fierce hatred.
The hatred that lingers on when you realize there’s no hope or opportunity waiting for you tomorrow. The hatred you feel for everything that kills your dreams.
I lazily collect my baggage and head towards the
