Zeus, I Presume

This day, we went on a visit to Segesta on the island of Sicily in Italy. The little Fiat sputtered and whined, working hard to get us up the hill. We were on the way to Segesta on a sunny autumn afternoon. The heady scents of Mediterranean vegetation wafted through the open windows while fulsome Italian voices blared at us from the radio. They sounded tinny coming from two cheap speakers let into the doors. My son was reading the map when not exclaiming over the views.