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On the day before Christmas Eve, I am in Seville. I walk the depleted streets, visit the main sights, the Cathedral of St. Mary, the Alcázar. In the afternoon, I respite in a small bar for a café cortado and a glass of rioja. When I emerge, the shining sky is beginning to darken and I can hear the faint sound of faraway church bells. Part of the playlist: moving, still. 𝄐