SAN ARTEIXO DE MONTALVO
The first time I came to this village and met its inhabitants, I realized that something strange was haunting their minds. That evening, the air was so cold that I could even feel it inside my bones. Everybody began to return to their homes, locking their doors tight for the night, hoping not be surprised defenseless against their most horrifying terrors.
It seemed that these people had no soul, that they had turned away from God, abandoned themselves to superstition.
I tried hard to forget that feeling, but my partner could not. He was younger and not yet mastered his terrors. However, my main concern was to find a place to spend the night. I wasn't worried about monsters nor demons, but the cold: another night sleeping rough and my bones would be rankling all the way to Santiago.
WAVERING BETWEEN FAITH AND SUPERSTITION
The thin line between these two concepts is very easy to cross. Both are blind...
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