“The Mutton Lane Inn entrance” by cotitoo is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0 I’m just after kissing you goodbye on Patrick Street and maybe it’s the lingering press of your lips on mine, or the pint rejuvenating the leftover buzz of last night, or the Amber...
On a marble bench in Villa Borghese, Rome glowing in its June glory, the boy tells the girl this is not the right time, his school year abroad is only about to start. She knows, of course, but it’s only now she’s found the courage. Now, after 9 months of...
Let’s say that not long after Prince Orsini returned home from years at war, his wife, Giulia Farnese, passed away. Let’s say instead of building her an austere family tomb, Orsini commissioned a sculpture garden full of monsters and mythical beings for her ghost to...
Photo: Carlos de Paz from A Coruña, España, CC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons He had crossed A Quintana dos Mortos for the same place and at the same time for years, and yet he had never seen that woman before: dressed in white light she was sensually laid down on...
It’s a bright July day. We’re driving back from Rosemarkie Beach when you ask, ‘Have you ever seen a clootie well?’ I’m certain you know I haven’t. I’m a Londoner who grew up in the wide spaces of the American Midwest. You’re an English ecologist inhabiting the...
On Via San Lucifero, nestled among the prickly pears, there is a house with cracks in the plaster. The plaster is painted the color of the inside of an almond but mottled here and there with patches of blackish mold like rot. Against the house there is a vine of red...
