The dust-filled air and the abundance of possibilities which would open up to her if she accepted the job.
She remembered walking into town as a child with her mother, and then, all grown up, with her friends. Her part of Vicenza was the other side of the river, and the bridge provided a shortcut into the centre. Her eyes were always drawn to the moss-covered watermill and the faded sign above it; they looked weird, out of place with their surroundings.
The building had once been home to a print shop, but it had eventually been sold and moved to the industrial zone and the redevelopment project had only recently begun.
To be continued...