Nonfiction | March 01, 1991
The Year I Was Young
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I got stuck for a while at the rooming house at No. 15 Gravina Street in Alicante on the southern coast of Spain. On the table beside the bed I counted thirty-five pesetas remaining–about fifty-eight cents–which even in 1960 was no real money at all. I guess I was abut as broke as you can get anywhere without winding up in jail. But, my God, I was living well!
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