There was a girl named Malina Serafina Anastazja Dominika Naveed Jeleń nic Cecília O Alexandre, for several reasons, including the fact that her ancestor Dominika had, it seemed, built a castle, along with, or so she was learning, the Malina Concordat, the Dominika Accord, and the Treaty of the Alexandres.
She – we will call her Malina – had been lost in the desert, and not she was not so much lost as unsure of where she was.
She had a castle in front of her; she had a mustang under her.
She had a cat next to her, & that was what she knew.
The building coming into view was not quite what she’d consider a palace. It had no tall spindling towers; no beautiful white stucco painted with all the colors people could dream of; no gold.
She could see a thick, squat tower above the horizon, flanked, of course, by cacti (her whole life was devolving into nothing but cacti). From it fluttered 2 banners, as tattered as any she had seen on border trees in this journey & more so. Continue reading