Elanor
The streets were white, that summer of '73. A church bell rang in the distance. They had thrown rice, and she was picking them up, one by one. There was a shrunken head, bottled, by the front door. Who did she long to give it to? She saw a lonely priest. He had holes in his socks. Nobody went to his churhc. Why did he continually hold mass to the hollow shell of a church?