Status Updates From Fuochi

My name is Mary: people call me Mary Magdalene. Magdalene is the name of my village, my mother owned fields there and my father owned vineyards. I came from Magdala. At noon, my sister Martha would bring pitchers of beet to the farm workers; but me, I went to them empty-handed; they lapped up my smile; their eyes went over me as though I were an almost ripe fruit which needs only a little more sun to be full-flavroed

Everyone had been settled there for years in a sort of red routine in which war and peace mingled like sand and water in stinking marsh regions.

la parte de aquiles, dios, como llega