The angle of two crooked streets harboring a slender patch of shade between the first and middle gates. My body clock is off. I'm hungry, I need to eat. Nothing is open. A stork unfolds from its nest on the bell tower and circles the empty square. Abrahan Melamed, the chief rabbi's son, became a New Christian in the spring of 1492, a trickle of font water dripping down his neck. I don't know what I'm looking for, staring like an idiot as a woman steers past me with her shopping bag over the mismatched cobble stones, gone behind the grillwork of a door. At the one cafe in bleaching light, a plate of olives appears. Salt is thicker than blood, I want to say to the waiter. Now he brings water. Now bread.
Medina del Campo, Castile.
Barber, Jennifer
The angle of two crooked streets harboring a slender patch of shade between the first and middle gates. My body clock is off. I'm hungry, I need to eat. Nothing is open. A stork unfolds from its nest on the bell tower and circles the empty square. Abrahan Melamed, the chief rabbi's son, became a New Christian in the spring of 1492, a trickle of font water dripping down his neck. I don't know what I'm looking for, staring like an idiot as a woman steers past me with her shopping bag over the mismatched cobble stones, gone behind the grillwork of a door. At the one cafe in bleaching light, a plate of olives appears. Salt is thicker than blood, I want to say to the waiter. Now he brings water. Now bread.