Photos by Ethan Jacobs The bookbag is a ruse, makes me look competent like I know where I’m going or what I’m doing. I don’t think anyone suspects I’m moving around with contraband: a stolen bundle of bed sheets that used to be white. By dawn, they were blotchy—red,...
Photo by Mate Karoly / Shutterstock.com Nearly everyone else in the Piazza Caprerer was milling about or gazing at the 18th century Basilica di Santa Margherita, whose walls glowed the palest lemon in the morning sun. One man was not, he came from one corner of the...
Photo by Xauxa (Håkan Svensson), CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons At ten years of age, I stopped being innocent. The experience was not sexual in nature, but something darker. Funny enough, children are natural in the world of the invisible, but if the door of the...
Photo by Deensel, CC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons The minute he saw the picture of Praza do Comercio, the square acknowledging the sea with elegance worth empires, he felt Lisbon’s call. There was nothing left for him in his own country: work or identity. Like...
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...
