Begiak eman nizkinan eta ilunpeei behatu hien

Hidden between distant cliffs, in some remote place in the Guillerías visited by wolf hunters, bandits, ambushers, Carlists, sorceresses, maquis, rally drivers, ghosts, beasts and demons, the Clavell farmhouse clings to the ground like a tick. It is a house, above all, inhabited by women, and where a single day contains centuries of memories. Those of Joana, who to find a husband for her made a pact that inaugurated an apparently cursed progeny. Those of Bernadeta, whose eyelashes are missing and, from so much thyme water that she poured into her eyes when she was a child, she ended up seeing what she shouldn't. Those of Margarida, who instead of a whole heart has one of three quarters, rabid. Or those of Blanca, who was born without a tongue, with a mouth like an empty nest, and she doesn't speak, she just watches. These women, and more, are preparing a party today.