Gina and I lay back on the twin beds of our inn, already in pajamas at eight o’clock, and watched the Camino kitten tear around the room. Too tiny to climb the curtains, he pranced and dashed from corner to corner, while I on my phone sent frantic, pleading emails to...
He – she? – seemed no more than mouse-size, when I turned around to look. Its tiny yet piercing screams sounded unlike any Camino creature we had so far encountered – the scurrying shrews, squirrels, rabbits; the melodic Spanish birdsong carried on the breeze. The...
Recent Comments