The Third Twin
Missing her, I turned back to the business at hand, parting the vines that stood between me and the building with the machete of need, basic, irresistible human need to behold, to experience, to know.
With such gravitational power at its disposal, the chapel, now becoming more apparent through the vegetation, might have been responsible for everything I had just been through. Pain had been delivered and received within its walls. Ghastly violence had been done. Perversities. Lives defiled, profaned, ruined, stolen. Was it too difficult to imagine in the radius of such a pit borders had come down, other spheres had been breached? An overlapping triangularity of life, afterlife, and dream achi
Bab Populer