I believe Pilar and Mercedes were together all the time they weren't working. Sally and I wondered about the extent to which they were a couple, but came to no conclusion. The boundaries around things seemed to be set in different places here. We could become better and better friends without some of the normal signs of intimacy in English - like never seeing where Pilar worked or the inside of Mercedes house, like not knowing or asking about sexuality. And class - class seemed different - like some ideal socialist state where factory worker, newspaper professional and teachers all existed in a common society. In Spain, the waiters could go out and eat at restaurants similar to the ones they worked in. In Spain, lunch started between 2 and 4, dinner between 9 and 11. In Spain...
We were young, women, friends. I remember we went out to a disco and fairly soon young men came to ask Sally to dance. And we told them that she not only had a wooden leg, but was also going into a convent the next day.
We were young, women, friends. I remember we were having coffee and the waiter brought me over a love note and indicated it was from a young man who was just then leaving. It was a poem to my brown eyes. My eyes were not brown. Of course Mercedes hunted him down through the nightclubs and rushed to introduce him to me, much to our mutual discomfort.
We were young, women, friends.
Other memories jogged by this photo. Further memories. This Photo. All the Photos
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Map/Diagram of Story Elements