Walking day after day around these streets you mostly see people complaining and and pointing out all the negative stuff about the regime, about actions taken and even about people.

Rhia is sitting in the center of the city looking at people passing by and wondering why are they still here? Why are they walking on these shores and why do their kids feel the need to follow their parents steps.

She suddenly comes up with an idea in hope that maybe just maybe people will remember the positive things about the mafioso life and by sharing their thoughts  a ray of light would shine on the world. She thinks that the balance must be leaning towards the beautiful part of this life since after all the negativity the cities are filled with people.

She is shy at first but somehow manages to voice her thoughts.

'I would like to hear out thoughts, stories, reasons, memories, friendships. Everything positive that comes to your mind to why after all the bad that happens on our shores you are still here and when you die your kids choose to follow this type of life. Every thought matters because it brings hope so please take a moment and share it with the world.'

The death of a parent is always hard, but my father before me and his father before him, and so on, instilled in them the will to do better than their father before them. All men die; but most don't die on their own terms. None of my grandparents ever got to go out in their own way so I, as they did, will tell my son to work harder and outdo me. The only limiting factor is one's self. 

With each family member death, one works harder, the goals of each subsequent offspring should rise. "My father was a capo in his family, so I'll aim for boss or beyond." "My father before me was a Boss, so I'll aim for consig or beyond." This life is only interesting if you have goals to work towards. Something to set your eyes on that you can work towards and be better than those that came before you and paved a pathway for you.

"Something welcome"

The words uttered, directed at nobody in particular. Reading a paper nearby, Luca almost broke a smile at the sight of something he wasn't expecting in the wake of a predictably mundane day. He watched for a moment from behind the pages of his publication and felt the notion build inside him. It took a moment before he folded it up, stood, and approached the young woman.

"Buenosera, signora. I don't often find myself drawn to comment on anything unless it has a... business interest."

He clears his throat, using his hand to shied the exhalation.

"Forgive me, my English is not quite as elegant as I'd like.

"As I was saying, in all the depressive statements and dreary monologue of injustice and supposed vindication, this was a welcome sight to see. This life is certainly ensnaring for most, which is why they... ah, è un tratto di famiglia, that is it is kept in the family."

He nods, he arms folded behind his back and hands held together.

"Salut, signora."