I walked down Paseo del Prado, losing myself to the sights, sounds, and dense magic of the city. There's something weirdly calming about being alone in a big city. It made me feel like the universe was hugely generous, and that my species was so damn...
Uh, puedo hablar con Andrew Nelson, por favor?" I asked, feeling like an idiot. "Quien?" "El americano," I explained. "Muy grande americano." In trying to describe my father, I sounded like I was ordering coffee. But it worked.
