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'Yesterday, I left Lisbon on a Bus. The terminal smelt like piss. I saw pink apartments on the edge of the city, white cemeteries and dying palm trees, a junkyard, cranes everywhere. I was on my way to Fatima. I was sitting next to a nun. She was a small woman with dark eyes and wild black hairs on her chin. I studied the rest of the bus. Americans, couples mostly. Matching beige shorts and sandals. Little gold crucifixes hanging around their necks. Big, dumb grins. Pilgrims, all of us.' (Introduction)
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Last amended 28 May 2024 07:45:08
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