Instalment Seven – The Twisted Times of Bella Basura


  In the summer heat the crowds spilled out up through the double swing doors, propped open, and spread across the tiny square. I elbowed and struggled my way down into the deep shady recesses of The Bordello. Dolly and the Marquessa were snuggled in the shadows, chatting and giggling, hugging each other and weeping with merriment. I was already turning on my heels. “Bella! Bella!” Dolly called after me. She was waving a xeroxed copy of something…more

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