The house has an address.

Toros Resabiados lives here: the manifesto, the cities, the twenty-two letters, the bulls of Gadir. This is the official house of the line.

The house is not finished. A chronicle this old cannot be poured in one night. Cities still wait — Arwad, Motya, Utica. Letters still wait in the mother tongues.

Dispatches will keep arriving. The wall takes more stone.