The story continues

Maria Dolores shuffled uncomfortably in her chair and blinked slowly; opening and closing her heavy-lidded eyes like a drunk trying to stay conscious at the end of a hard session. The wooden church pews of San Salvador de la Marina weren’t built for comfort, a subtle but nonetheless unavoidable penitence before the eyes of God…

Maria Dolores starts to tell her story

  “I remember it was a Wednesday. I remember which day it was because later we had to go back to the chapel. All day classes with Father Alberto then listening to Franco’s broadcast to the nation at night. The Church had one of only two of the radios in the village. It was 1945,…