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  • After the barbarian invasions, the pirates came. To protect itself from looting, the village moved inland to protect itself. Before that, the Moors had built windmills to draw water from the sea and irrigate the land. From my vantage point, I could see one with its blades, sitting high a top the village on an isolated hill. It reminded me of Don Quixote who battled them with spears, mistaking them for dangerous giants. My imagination went aflame.

    I went in the general direction, but I couldn't find the road. After wandering down dead end streets and into backyards with barking dogs, an old lady in a thick red sweater and a face which looked like molded clay, took me up a steep street called Calle de la Norte. At the top, she pointed to a dirt pathway that curled around her house. Sure enough, behind a shrub there was a small sign: "Molina de Sa Planeta". "Old mill of the World".

    The dirt path was shrouded over with knotty bushes. On the way, I passed by lemon trees and an abandoned house. At last, I reached the top where the mill sat frozen in place. Its large wooden flats were moored to the earth with thick rope tied with sailor's knots. It looked like a giant captured by Lilliputians, frozen in time, unable to move.

    "Ungodly beast, you are mine! However enormous you may be, however high I may have to climb! I may only have a donkey and squire, but infidel, you and I, our destiny are bound!"

    Looking down back onto the village, I looked at the coastline and the different tributaries opening out onto the sea. The sweet flowers of the almond trees gave off a honeyed scent as I waited for the afternoon to fade.
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