Seventy years after the fall of Nazi Germany, it is startling to witness a resurgence of the fear of an enemy within. Europe’s future hinges on how this issue is resolved.
Three days ago, as I was driving past the palace, I could already see right through it.
It’s hard to commune with the dead when you are attending to your body. But didn’t I see my companion cry back there, in front of the suitcases? Did he smell the odor from human bodies?
But golden eras—like edens—end. Even the magic of Prospero’s island, we assume, departs with him, for better or worse. For Sugar Island, much like Prospero’s, the beginning of the final days came with a shipwreck.
The car was gliding over the drying asphalt and everything around me seemed strange and beautiful beyond words. Ruthlessly beautiful. As if nature itself had decided to flaunt all the precious treasures of this land, which I was destined to lose.