![]() A palm-fringed gap in the wall at the point of the quadrant marked the vehicular exit into the dusky evening. ![]() ![]() The courtyard was set out like a fan-shaped checker-board: square tables decked with white covers, standing on black flags of volcanic stone the whole split down the middle by a 'hinge' of vehicles parked herringbone-fashion on what was once a broad carriageway. The other three gardens were rubble-strewn craters only their outer walls had been repaired, to create something of an acceptable fagade in the district of the Via Delia Magione. The lone survivor of a World War II bombing raid, the walled enclosure was once the smallest of four gardens containing a middling villa. The powerful, silver-grey stretch limo, familiar in itself however unusual - but less than unique - on an island of ancient Fiats and sputtering Lambrettas, bumped carefully over shifting cobbles under a baroque stone archway into the courtyard of Julio's Cafe and Restaurant in the eastern quarter of Palermo. ![]()
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