La Regenta.

Now nothing away from the pain and thought. But that mechanical piety, that pray and hear mass as the other was okay, religion seemed compatible with the stagnation of his soul. And without realizing it, the vulgar religion (so called to himself), gave him an excuse to break his promise not to ever leave home.
October came, and one afternoon when the wind blew hot and lazy South, Ana left the mansion of the Ozores and thick veil over the face, all in black, entered the cathedral solitary and silent. I had finished the choir.
Some canons and beneficiaries took their respective confessional side chapels scattered around and between the columns of the apse, in retrochoir.
How long had she not enter there!
As he returns to the homeland, Ana felt tears of tenderness in his eyes. But how sad was it that said the temple talking with domes, columns, glassware, naves, chapels … talking to the entire contents of the memories of the Regent! …

Liked it
Leave a Comment
comments powered by Disqus

Hi there!

Hello! Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!

Find the Spot