Sobremesa Author’s Note: I thought a bit of humor may be in order during these crazy times. Brief and fun. Let me tell you about the sixteen-foot concrete walls. I was maybe thirteen years old, standing at the edge of the Church of God youth camp pool in my ragged cutoff blue jeans—because we did…

I meandered along the labyrinth corridors of Carrer del Call this morning—the old Jewish Quarter of Barcelona, one of the most layered streets in a city made entirely of layers. The buildings press so close above me that the sky becomes a thin blue ribbon between medieval stone. Beneath my feet, cobblestones and Roman walls….