The Ghosts of Oriente Past

Apungent stench of urine. The homeless piled high in the bunker of Oriente station. I was searching for a pastry. Some sustenance. I’ve smelled fumes like this before. Never in peace time.

A subterranean concrete maze that left me dizzy. I was in no state to navigate this. My head was pounding.

I got too involved the previous night. Too engaged. My alarm clock woke us both. I shooed him like one shooed a pesky pigeon. You must leave. No time to explain. I had no time. There was no time.

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Tags: Oriente Past