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    Bridges Through Time
    Bridges Through Time
    Bridges Through Time
    Ebook60 pages45 minutes

    Bridges Through Time

    By Linda McNine

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    About this ebook

    Italy has a blend of ancient and modern cultures. This story is narrated by a resident of a small village in Northern Italy. It is a story that blends the old with the new. It is a memoir of a relationship that evolved over the years. Modern images of the village are interspersed through-out the narrative, while the words weave a story of the past that bridges it with the present.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLinda McNine
    Release dateNov 23, 2012
    ISBN9781301041060
    Bridges Through Time
    Author

    Linda McNine

    Graduated from University of Nevada,Reno with a Master's in Education. Retired from the school district in 2011 after 20+ years and with over 40 years of total teaching experience with special needs populations. New interests are oil painting, writing and improving my gardening skills.

    Read more from Linda Mc Nine

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      Book preview

      Bridges Through Time - Linda McNine

      Bridges Through Time

      Copyright November 2012

      By

      Authors

      Linda E.McNine Carlo Rostagni

      All Rights Reserved

      This e-book is a compilation of ideas and experiences that may or could have happened. It is however, fiction. The people may resemble those you know or those about whom you have heard stories. Our creative imaginations are at work.

      Cover Artist: Linda McNine

      Cover Design by Linda McNine

      Editor Donna J. Rostagni

      Photographer Donna J. Rostagni

      Published by Whispering Winds at Smashwords

      10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

      This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away. If you would like to share this book with others please purchase additional copies. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or if it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to Smashwords.com for your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the authors.

      Table of Chapters

      Italy

      My Village

      Early Morning

      Mornings Past

      Randagio

      The Love Of My Life

      SmallWorld

      Quiet Moments of Seeing

      Attuned

      Silence No Longer

      Friendly Fire

      Everyday Sounds

      Sensory Stimulation

      TimesPast

      A Purrfect Day

      Mid-day Sun

      In The Dark Of Night

      Leaving Home

      The War Ends

      The End of a Purrfect Day

      Italy

      This is my birthplace.

      This is where I grew up.

      This is my school.

      This is where I exercise.

      This is my playground.

      This is where my children were born

      and raised

      This is where I come for comfort.

      This is where my ancestors lived

      and died.

      This is where I come to think.

      This is where my memories are.

      This is my home.

      This is where I am.

      This is where I want to be.

      This is where I live.

      I have not always lived in my home. Like many others, I needed to stretch my legs, go, and see the world to experience life. I carried nothing with me. My mother cried when I was leaving and like many fathers, my father was stoic and silent. He did not wish me well. He should have been happy. There was one less mouth to feed, one less young-un’ around to bring up. Nevertheless, no, he said not one word, gave not one piece of advice, but had a knowing smile on his face. Out I went into the wide-open world, alone.

      I was not alone for long. I joined my young friends and for many weeks, spent most of my time meandering in the neighborhood in which I was staying. I was on the prowl for who knows what. It was exciting for a time, but I grew tired of it and began wanting to go home and settle down. I had not met anyone who meant anything to me and soon found myself wanting, no needing, to listen to those old stories my father often told about the old days. When I was a young sprig, I grew bored of those life lessons, those remembrances of the past, things he remembered and stories he had learned as a lad; but as I grew older and perhaps wiser, I began changing and my yearning grew and grew.

      I had not traveled very far, just a short distance up the road through old town. I lived near the old castle. I remember my father’s stories about life in the castle, when he was young, but now the roof had fallen in and the winter’s wind turned my blood into ice flows. Food was scarce probably because there were so many of my so-called friends with voracious appetites and no, they did

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