A GOOSE FOR GALILEO
“I can do nothing for him,” mourned the Doctor. “He’s blind, he’s under house arrest, he’s shunned for recanting and most of all he shuns himself. What can I do for this broken man?” Still, he paused at Villa Il Gioiello, almost knocked, thought better of it and wandered through Arcetri, marveling at 1640 Firenze, stopping in the market square to purchase a fat goose. “Send this, please, to Signore Galilei.” He counted six shiny Venusian coins into the vendor’s greasy hand.
“Who shall I say has sent it, signore? Signore?”
The Doctor had flown away, bouncing through Galileo’s stars.
