I paid the taxi driver got out with my suitcase surveyed my surroundings and just as I was turning to ask the driver something or get back into the taxi and return forthwith to Chilln and then to Santiago it sped off without warning as if the somewhat ominous solitude of the place had unleashed atavistic fears in the drivers mind. For a moment I too was afraid. I must have been a sorry sight standing there helplessly with my suitcase from the seminary holding a copy of Farewells Anthology in one hand. Some birds flew out from behind a clump of trees. They seemed to be screaming the name of that forsaken village Querqun but they also seemed to be enquiring who quin quin quin. I said a hasty prayer and headed for a wooden bench there to recover a composure more in keeping with what I was or what at the time I considered myself to be. Our Lady do not abandon your servant I murmured while the black birds about twenty-five centimetres in length cried quin quin quin. Our Lady of Lourdes do not abandon your poor priest I murmured while other birds about ten centimetres long brown in colour or brownish rather with white breasts called out but not as loudly quin quin quin Our Lady of Suffering Our Lady of Insight Our Lady of Poetry do not leave your devoted subject at the mercy of the elements I murmured while several tiny birds magenta black fuchsia yellow and blue in colour wailed quin quin quin at which point a cold wind sprang up suddenly chilling me to the bone.