America has always sold itself like a potluck dinner—“Bring your culture! Bring your grandma’s recipes! Bring the funky spices we can pretend we invented!”
He’s a man who seems older than he is as he stoops over a broom and pushes dried leaves and debris off the street. His task is never-ending. Day or night, you will find him cleaning the square under the shadow of the castle.
America has always sold itself like a potluck dinner—“Bring your culture! Bring your grandma’s recipes! Bring the funky spices we can pretend we invented!”