Junkyard Quote Post Three Week Three

There is a place that smells of body odor and herbs, up the hill from the pizzeria that has a bathroom where Febreeze and Glade made a baby that killed fourteen people and hid the stench with its scent. A place filled with modern art that looks like garbage cans and box springs. This is the park in Gubbio. Little doors of blue metal lock back the secrets from St. Francis and his wolf, secrets that the Eugubini know. Sounds of water echo through the door as I bend down, there's a man in this door. A wood dwarf who runs behind us flapping a flag in the wind, tells his friends at the other doors to keep them locked, ducks around trees when we turn.