Istanbul, by Vince Donovan
We inspected the gloomy narthex (itself as big as a cathedral), its giant doors, and worked our fingers into the cracks of the granite and marble walls, trying to find the spirit of the place. Finally we walked into the church itself, where I instantly felt cold and lost in the space under the huge dome. It looms rather than soars, and when Catherine and I sat down on a marble step we were like mice cowering in a cold and empty mansion.
Latvia, by Zinta Aistars
Laima took us out to her garden to pick fresh vegetables for our dinner. I held my shirt out to collect the beans Andris snapped neatly from their stems. Laima dug into the loose soil to pluck out round new potatoes. Her partner, Peteris, cut green onions, his small blade gleaming and sharp.
