The dirt track became a cobbled street, twisting between high buildings that leant together, nodding their heads and clicking their tongues at us.
Marta began to tire, feet dragging and hand pulling in mine. “Let’s go home,” she said. “I don’t like it here.”
The street opened on an avenue, straight as marching soldiers.
At the end—a great plaza. Waters danced in fountains, and flocks of starlings hid the distant palace behind a curtain of coruscating wings.
Marta turned and turned. “Daddy, I didn’t know there was so much space in the whole world.”
I determined things must be different.