the porch in broad daylight,
and tried in vain to reawaken
the forgotten spirit of
hospitality. Fernandas
cloistered passion built in
impenetrable dike against
Úrsulas torrential hundred
years. Not only did she refuse
to open doors when the arid
wind passed through, but she
had the windows nailed shut
with boards in the shape of a
cross, obeying the paternal
order of being buried alive.
nextflipdebug2
(nextflipdebug2)
#1