Excerpt from MOTHER TONGUE by Karen Stephen

I tapped my breaks as the first building in the tiny village came into view, a two-story house whose rear of rough, moss-covered stone lurked behind a façade of beige stucco. My gaze lingered on the checkerboard of cast stone at the point of demarcation. I felt an odd pulling sensation in my chest, as if someone was watching me from behind the white shuttered windows, each one tenderly surrounded by filigreed carvings. I imagined walking up to the oaken front door and lifting the brass knocker. The blare of a horn broke the spell and I drove on.

Crawling along on Google Maps, I found this house in the village of Caporalino along N193 in Corsica and felt it was perfect as the dwelling that catches my protagonist’s eye when she first arrives on her mother’s native island.