February 25, 2010
I met him in the baroque town of Noto.
His name was Domenico Sculli.
“Call me Mimo,” he said.
He spoke good English. “I was boat captain for 42 years. I know whole world. Japan, Australia, Siberia. I lived in South America. Only place I don’t know is China. I came back home for retire. But many friends already gone.”
“Are you happy to be back in Sicily?”
“Look!” he said, sweeping his hand through the air. “Noto is so beautiful!”
I nodded.
He pulled a photo from a worn leather wallet.
“This is how I was forty years ago. You see I was very, very handsome.”
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