by Natalie Gerich Brabson
Pressing my nose against the smudged windowpane, I spot a gleaming government building topped with proud angels. Wings outstretched, they stand triumphing against the skyglow. Our bus tumbles on over cobblestone streets, and soon, we round the bend and pass the Atocha station. The station’s glass panes reflect thousands of traffic lights. The bus lurches up the ramp. Squinting against the light, I crane my neck to catch a last glimpse of central Madrid for now. We’ll spend most of this week at the school. Continue reading
Hawaii Pacific Review 