Finally Meeting David

I had been waiting most of my life for this moment, forty-seven of my sixty-five years. We were standing outside the Galleria dell'Accademia in Florence, waiting to see him, the one I had read about, whose picture I had first seen as a college freshman, the one put on a pedestal by his creator and whose creator I had put on a pedestal. David. The David. All seventeen magnificent alabaster feet of him. He did not disappoint . . .

This essay is currently under submission.