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I admit my guilt in that Christmas past, my said husband Juan Estevan told me how his daughter Inés had ascended to the sky and saw there the deceased and the living; and how the conversos were very…
On the nights before Passover, Rosh Hashanah, and Yom Kippur, my mother would send me to the butcher with some birds to be slaughtered according to ritual so the meat would be kosher—that is, clean…
Of course I could explain the history and the comings and goings of the Jews, assuring you that they have suffered much, that everyone persecuted them because they could, that those caricatures you’d…
After the war with Spain came another war. The postman, though, he stopped coming. Well, actually, he didn’t stop. What I mean is, he didn’t stop in. Papa always waited for him by the balcony, he’d be…
David and Nicolás raised a dove for me. They had her for about a month in the count’s house, trying to become fond of her because she was from the messenger race, and they wanted me to use her to send…
I certainly had an obscure childhood
but intensely my own,
a childhood which wanted to be dashing
but had the features of a caricature.
Yes, a caricature. For example:
that absurd love for Sophie,…
I admit my guilt that about a year ago I was in the home of Juan Estevan when his daughter Inés said to me: “Come here, cousin, would you like to see your mother who is long deceased? and to save your…
I admit my guilt . . . in that I was told of a maiden who was [there] the daughter of Juan Estevan who had ascended to heaven and was approached there by an angel, and how she had told of the many…