the streets are narrow; narrow and cobble stoned. Narrowed and made smaller with shops on each side, food stalls, scarfs, people. They ay made richer, though small, by the drops of His weat, drops of His blood. A thousand years later theses same streets flowed with the blood of the slaughtered during the crusades. Down these small, signifcant angled hills.
charles osewalt's blog 
Reblogged this on brendan joyce.