Swirling. Delicious. Leaving a sweet taste in my mouth. I love the magical realism in the books of Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Jorge Amado, and Laura Esquivel. I’m pleasantly lost wandering the fictional Colombian village of Mariquita in Tales from the Town of Widows by James Cañon. The men are gone, swept away by guerrillas. No fathers. No brothers. No sons. A “magical whorehouse” moves from place to place. A local priest volunteers for a “Procreation Campaign.” A sliver of the moon and the current of the river carry me along.