The Clandestine

 By Anthony Bain

I step into an apartment building entranceway deep in the heart of central Barcelona, the décor instantly grabs my attention, created when the city experienced a metamorphosis of modernism architecture; intricate multicolored murals look down at me from high ceilings, it’s an awe inspiring sight, designed to disarm any visitor.

For a second I cannot believe that I have the right place. Nothing indicates that some kind of social event is in full swing. No lights, no muffled conversations and no smell of fresh cooking odors seeping out into the stone corridor; Only silence, flickering lights and the musty humid smell of the apartment foyer.

I follow a winding staircase up to the first floor and I knock on a large paneled wooden door and hear the knocking reverberate beyond the door and into the next space, which seems vast and expansive.

I stand for moment reading from a crumpled paper in my hand, just to make sure that I haven´t stumbled across the wrong address.

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