The Silent Shadows of a (Willingly) Forgotten Rome –

by Bruno Di Tillo

There is a place in Rome where Marijuana is stored in fake tree branches and rocks; where heroin is sold in small grocery bags and brought by elderly ladies walking with a crouch. There is a place where silent individuals guard both entrances and exits to ensure that the area will never be busted by police force. There is a place where fear and dust are one. There is a place where teens don’t come to smoke but rather come to buy dreams for a shallow fee. There is a place where every story becomes important, but all truth is omitted. There is a place where the earth is that a color one day and another the one after because of the different ethnic groups that choose that place as a temporary bed.

 That place is ***** *****.

 Abukar stands in his corner of the park, looking vaguely in the direction of the approaching car. As he turns, covering his hands making the quick dial to his friend