From then on she woke me up every morning as she wanted me to go to mass with her. I feel so sleepy, such lassitude of the sweaty body, she muttered as she lay beneath the sheets, heavy slumber! I had to get up. Who would have dared to contradict a cousin who had seen the Virgin Mary! We splashed some cold water into our eyes, we hurriedly combed our hair, and then off to church, feeling cold, and in the dark, huddled, arm in arm. From time to time, we would pass a man, who cleared his throat and spat. Cats meowed, languidly; a cock crowed. The stars sparkled in the sky. Over the roofs, dawn was starting to break, the houses closed, somnolent, greyish, hunchbacked. Inside the church, only a handful of pious old women, eerie shadows in the dark of angular benches. The chapel, with semi-circular arches with rough columns that seemed to intertwine in the ceiling with a sort of knot, blurred by the darkness of the night and the light of day; the stained glass windows projecting freesias, revealing a riot of colours on the crushed stone floor. And, in front of the altar stood the priest, mystical and solemn. And he was Maria´s confessor. And together they schemed to take all the girls to a series of courses in a monastery up in the mountains, on the outskirts of Palma.

39º a l'ombra (39º in the shade), 1968 

Translated by Núria Cohen.

(Santanyí, 1941). Antònia Vicens i Picornell writes novels, prose and poetry. She is a tireless observer and an autodidact writer. She combined her literary works with other jobs in different sectors. In 2000 she became a full-time writer and reader. She has published novels including Ungles perfectes (2007) or Ànima de gos (2011), short stories, collections of poems such as Lovely (2009), Sota el paraigua del crit (2013) and Fred als ulls (2015). In 1967 she was awarded the Sant Jordi prize for her novel 39º a l´ombra, reprinted in 2002. In 2016 she was distinguished with the National Prize of Culture for her literary career by the Generalitat of Catalonia.