chicraā:
Ā Ā * /Ā Ā CHIARA DE LA VOLTA; open
wandering through the cobblestoned street, her slight heels clacking with each stride, she a copy of danteās divine comedy slipped into her bag, rumour came from london that a manuscript had been sold of alighieriās near century old work, and chiara had actively sought out a copy from one of the library to read over it.Ā Ā as she rounded a corner, her bag was caught on bush of wild roses, and as she yanked it in attempt to free it - the copy went nearly flying from her bag and skidded at the feet of another person not more than half a dozen yards away from her.
ā oh, scusì !Ā Ā thats mine, my apologies, āĀ chiara called, freeing her bag though it cost her a few scrapes of the thorns, and hurrying over to the other,Ā Ā ā i was caught by the roses and my book escaped, so it would seem. ā
Eiravati bent to retrieve the book with a flourish, taking a moment to study itās cover before passing it back to the younger woman.Ā āDante,ā she noted.Ā āHow are you finding it? I did not care for it much as a girl, but I think perhaps now I would have a better understanding of it.ā Although Eiravatiās husband and children had all been raised Catholic, her own mother had been a Hindu. Much of the most beloved Italian art, including Danteās Divine Comedy, had gone over her head in her youth. She had read the Bible through several times since then though, and sheād attended Church with her husband ever since their marriage was first announced. Her own faith was confined to a small shrine within the walls of their home.










