So many worlds to create. So much time.Louis XVI cut into the cardboard box very carefully with a knife he reserved strictly for that purpose. He was cutting out a window or, more accurately, what would be a window. Right now it was just a rectangular hole in a brown cardboard box. The box would eventually be covered in plaster of Paris and turned into a house. A house in Bethlehem.We had the whole town, and it grew every year. House by house he built it, house by house it grew, Bethlehem. We had the landscape too. Rocks. Hills. Ravines. Meadows. A few trees. Just a few, and scraggly ones at that. Even the palms looked beat. King Louis knew there weren’t many trees in the area of Bethlehem around the time Jesus was born. He couldn’t re-create a falsehood.He had been there. He remembered all the details. No vault of oblivion for this man, my father.“See this domed house over here? That was the first inn at which Mary and Joseph asked for a room. See that hill there? That’s where the shepherds usually ate dinner around a fire.
What do You think about Waiting For Snow In Havana?
