Veo is laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He feels really tired, but can’t fall asleep. Something was bugging him, but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was. He stands up, takes his jacket off, throws it over his chair, and unbuttons his vest. He turns around and heads for his window. He stares at the few people walking on the street, almost all of them looking at the floor or minding their own business. A couple of newspaper vendors stood around, attempting to fill the void so clearly felt. Veo sighs.

Same old.

He turns around and heads back to his desk. He sits down and stares at the pictures with his family. His grandfather, now long gone, was one of the most influential people in his life. He was the one who introduced La Cosa Nostra to him: a life that promised money and power, everything one could want. He sits back and remembers, however, that some of the stories he heard from his late grandfather depicted a world different from the one he lived in today.

He remembers his grandfather telling him about the many wars he survived back in the day. He explained his fear of losing it all, everything he had worked so hard for. He saw many friends come and go, but this was all part of the life he chose.

It certainly is more peaceful now. He thinks to himself. Now a part of the life his grandfather once chose, Veo realizes he has yet to live through a major war and all though he is glad he hasn’t fought one yet, he can’t help but get excited at the thought of fighting for his family and city.

The last rays of sunshine had already disappeared and the room now felt empty and dark. Veo stood up to turn on his lamp and radio. He stood there, gazing at his grandfather’s picture. Man, he really missed him. When he was a kid, the stories he enjoyed the most were those grandpa had heard on the streets. He talked about times where everyone took upon the streets to share ideas and news, tell stories, hold contests, and even settle disputes. He remembers his grandfather telling him about a time when the streets and businesses were bustling with activity, and how family associates were even required to speak in the streets and get their name known before becoming a part of the family. Veo is aware that this requirement is still held to some extent, but he realizes these measures certainly increased activity. Would he not have been able to become a part of his family if he hadn’t been active in the streets? Some people are shy and others can’t find the words to express what they feel.

He had been staring at the picture for so long his eyes hurt. He then realized the place where the picture had been taken was not familiar to him. He turned the picture around, and found written “New Orleans, 1930”.

Interesting. I don’t know why I didn’t think of looking at the back of it before. I guess our way of life used to have interests somewhere else.

His legs felt weak, it had been a long day. He took his vest and threw it on the chair. He quickly got rid of his shoes and jumped on the bed. Covering himself up, he thought

Well, most things are the same, but I’m definitely living in a different world now. I’m enjoying myself now just as much as he did, in my own way.

He then closed his eyes and turned around, feeling the side of his gun under his pillow.