Junkyard Quote Four Week Five

A doorway to the underground opens and we file in, listening to our guide explain Orvieto as a series of tunnels. Protection from World War Two, storage containers, or just breeding ground for pigeons. I think of A Cask of Amontillado and Edgar Allen Poe and wonder if he had one of these birds. I imagine snuggling up to dirt walls mixed in cement from limestone, listening to the metal tools of Italians and the noises of donkeys. The ground dips, and I catch myself on a metal railing, jolted back into the world of steep steps and pillars. Where olive oil must be hidden from enemies and poured on their heads through a drain in the wall, and water comes from a well 250 stairs down.