“The roads are the rain,” he replied, and slid a shot of orujo across the zinc bar. “Drink. You will need warmth.”
“The rain remembers the Moors,” she continued. “It came during the siege of Toledo, so thick that archers could not see the walls. The king said it was Christian water fighting for him. The imam said it was a test from Allah. The rain said nothing. It simply fell.” The Rain in Espana 1
“No,” I said. “I’m a writer. From the north. Ireland.” “The roads are the rain,” he replied, and