THE HORIZON WAS TINGED WITH RED, AND SUDDENLY THE sun appeared.
The boy thought back to that conversation with his father, and felt happy;
he had already seen many castles and met many women (but none the equal of the one who awaited him several days hence).
He owned a jacket, a book that he could trade for another, and a flock of sheep.
But, most important, he was able every day to live out his dream.
If he were to tire of the Andalusian fields, he could sell his sheep and go to sea.
By the time he had had enough of the sea, he would already have known other cities, other women, and other chances to be happy.
I couldn’t have found God in the seminary, he thought, as he looked at the sunrise.
Whenever he could, he sought out a new road to travel. He had never been to that ruined church before,
in spite of having traveled through those parts many times. The world was huge and inexhaustible;
he had only to allow his sheep to set the route for a while, and he would discover other interesting things.
The problem is that they don’t even realize that they’re walking a new road every day.
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