2 Quotes by Antonia Burgato

The bells chimed in the morning over roof tops and down cobblestone alleys. The clickety-clack of men pushing their wheel barrels loaded with work tools bounced off walls and entered open windows. The island had awakened.

Airplanes were a novel sight on the island, and each time one flew low, the Sansegoti cowered and trembled. The whir of Spitfires circled above their heads like a swarm of killer bees. The Germans shot at them and the planes flew away, but they always came back—until they bombed the cannery.