Cortadura
Writer, Rebecca W Morris, and photographer, Matteo Delred, capture thoughts and images at (almost) all of the train stops from Jerez de la Frontera to Cadiz on the Cercanias trainline. For each stop, one piece of writing is written and one photo is chosen. Seeing the same things they'd seen so many times, but with new eyes, going to the weird corners of Cadiz they thought they'd never visit.
We were limp anaemic shrimps
Buried deep in the ocean’s bed.
These days we begin to crawl to shore
On delicate sea legs.
We arrived at Cortadura
And the sea roared over our heads.
People clustered around like crabs
On the rocks at Valdelagrana
Picking the algae and supping the salt
Confident and full-bodied in the tumult.
We retreat to the rocks -
He makes primitive stone sculptures.
I take breaths with the ocean
My heart thudding inside its foamy breast.
Before we arrived we took our usual detour
Running across a motorway -
Niños gamberos playing chicken.
We went for breakfast beside a large funeral parlour
The bar had a huge mirror behind it.
Written on it was:
CELEBRATIONS
WEDDINGS
BAPTISMS
COMMUNIONS
COMPANY DINNERS
In Castellano.
I knew the function that was not listed
Was staring us in the face -
The building across the road.
In Spain, funerals happen almost overnight
The grieving process, the other way around -
The sharp shock of loss experienced together.