“Midnight high and my demons nigh. For in this, the crossover hour, at the crossroads, I sold my cold soul for the coal to fuel my hellfire. The celestial curse for us, mere terrestrials.”, the Reverend preached to his brethren.
El Pueblo de Nuestra Señora, la Reina de los Ángeles del Río de Porciúncula
Behind an ancient hotel, stood the crowded alley market where people met at dusk in the spicy musk of Mexican cuisine to sit with Latin kings. They looked so free while I looked in forlorn envy as the sun set in The Village of Our Lady, the Queen of the Angels of the River of Porziuncola.