I don’t know his name /
But just suppose it’s Mr. Rochester /
Doesn’t hide his melancholy from the world. Continue reading Mr. Rochester
I don’t know his name /
And this bus driver was the type you didn’t approach with a half-hearted, nose-sticking-out mask job. He asked the lady in front of me to tighten the metal part across her nose. Continue reading Of masks
We approached what we hoped was the bus stop, our suitcases rattling along behind and a disgruntled (and tipsy) beggar peering after us. Since disembarking the ferry, we were well aware that we were in foreign territory once again. “Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Spain anymore!” Continue reading Some ups and downs of language learning
The week began with the bus radio blaring, “I want to get away; I want to fly away.” That day, I got away over café coffee and the chilly breeze sailing through the hollow bus station. But tonight, I flew. After two months in lockdown, was I ready to function in normal life? In another language? Another culture? I had my doubts. Ready or not, … Continue reading Tonight, I flew
Restrictions descended upon us one by one. I was always still adjusting to the previous restriction and was never pleased with the new one.
Immigrantville inhabitants grew more careful as time went on. On Wednesday evening last week, I marched into an odds and ends store to find a plastic wall protecting the workers behind the counter. Continue reading There is a lion in the streets: lockdown in Spain
I love being at home. But sometimes there is an accompanying trapped feeling. Trapped within my own honey-do list. Seemingly endless people to contact and visit, groceries to buy, food to cook, laundry to soak, languages to study, paperwork to stress over.
Right now, I had only my Kindle. Continue reading His Presence in the waves
Her tearless story was like too many stories I’ve heard. Another rocky marriage. And she barely in her twenties. She refused to tell her mother because it would make her worry. Continue reading Only God can redeem a broken life
Within the last month, I have had strangers approach me at the bus stop to ask about bus schedules or destinations. I began to wonder if, somewhere along the line, I have become an expert of the local bus system. Continue reading Of buses
There was still no glimmer of light between the slats of the blinds.
From the street below came the familiar creak of the neighbor’s metal garage door and the roar of the box truck. Greenhouse work doesn’t rest. A passing car dropped off noisy teenagers who were still on a high from their night-long partying. Continue reading Just a normal day
The last two nights of my North African sleep were interrupted by an unsettled rooster in a concrete courtyard just over the wall. At 4 a.m., I began to envision a warm bowl of rooster noodle soup. Just a room away, Erika was preparing to brandish her shiny knife set. Continue reading Would I do this trip again?: North Africa part 5