The Sicilian Inheritance

by Jo Piazza

My body lurched toward my little girl’s voice. I flung open the door and the two of us hurled ourselves at one another with a feverish intensity, colliding in a smush of skin and lips and complete and total adoration.

There was a hell of a lot of grief involved in losing something you built from scratch, in losing the future you expected to have.

Foreigners, especially Americans, do not like driving here in Sicily. None of you can drive a manual and we do not have many automatic rentals for you. How do you live your lives without knowing how to drive a real car?”

Hahahaha

“It is more a way of life, a spirit, a story we pass down, a way of reminding ourselves that the only way for a woman to survive in this world is to help other women.