On a whim, I took the subway to the very last station. Heading for the outskirts of the city is like rumbling across the troubled expanse of 20th Century Argentina. You descend through preening stations of ornate tile proud to be gateways to the first underground system in South America but you exit from stations added in recent years via unlovely orifices at the end of long, joyless passageways. They are stations built by people whose only talent is squashing illusions […]
Comments
3 responses to “The World at the End of the Line”
Hermoso, no se puede dejar de leer. El clima que creas, nos llena de intriga y engancha nuestra curiosidad por saber más allá de tus palabras.
Un placer leer tus ” epiphanies” sobre lugarcitos de BsAs.
Saludos y gracias.
Loved your ” Little Epiphanies”.Hope you can read my comment.I changed my mail.
Another little gem, Kevin. Loved your scorpion salesman, sweat, lust, and regret of harsh thoughts, all as unmistakably part of summer in B.A. It’s when we forgive ourselves and others easily. We’re on vacation from constrictive clothes and feelings because everybody is! It’s time to relax, especially knowing that March will march in. But not too loudly, just will. You hold out a promise. A new beginning. Great writing!