Alive in Lisbon: Sounds of Alfama

The first day it was already night when I arrived at my apartment in Alfama, suitcase wheels attacking dark cobblestone alleys like unbalanced bombs. They wanted me to surrender, I had already given away too much. Why keep moving? Counterforce children are throwing their own, and my leg is hit by a water balloon explosion.…

Čarodějnice: Prague’s Sacrifice for Spring

Already the tribal drums are sounding, young and middle-aged women are half-skipping, half-dancing in slow unsynchronized movement about the pile of logs. Their faces are smeared with ash, leafy branches encircling their heads but they do not look at the one with no face, the one who is propped up, a sacrificial scarecrow who is…