Walking down the streets of Rome, there is a familiar yet
foreign smell of freshly baked goods. I can smell the sweet fragrance of bread
that is not yet an hour old. The ancient cobblestones beneath my feet create a
sound similar to that of a horse’s hooves as I amble on. The sights of
centuries old buildings overtake the horizon and stretch out for miles. The
peeling paint on plaster makes everything feel as old as the city that has
existed for more than a millennia. The
red tiled roofs above each building creates a sense of uniformity seen
throughout the city. The sound of the old Italian men shouting their wares is
not brash against my ears, but calming as I feel like I’ve been transported
into the ancient city at the time of its height long ago. I wish to actually visit this city, now that I have this image in my head.
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