SUBJECT<\/p>\n
The cigales have stopped. The full moon has burst.<\/p>\n
DEVELOPMENT<\/p>\n
The cigales have stopped, so it\u2019s under twenty-six degrees. For the first time in weeks. And the crickets can be heard, their chirp so polite after the former maracas riot. Lorca on the terrace, slowly signalling some obscure communication. The moonlight is blue tonight. The full moon has burst.<\/p>\n
RECAPITULATION<\/p>\n
English tourists, in a hidden garden, are giddy with ros\u00e9 <\/em>and sauvignon<\/em>, and though their words are indistinguishable, the conversation, polite, light-hearted, is not displeasing. The village fete was last night. The cigales have stopped so it\u2019s under twenty-six, we nod, sagely. With her eyes, the cat signals her assent. The rocks beyond the village wall are all lit up in a blue rippled by dainty clouds, as if submerged, as if the full moon has burst.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" SUBJECT The cigales have stopped. The full moon has burst. DEVELOPMENT The cigales have stopped, so it\u2019s under twenty-six degrees. For the first time in weeks. And the crickets can<\/p>\n