Excerpt from MOTHER TONGUE by Karen Stephen

Within minutes I dropped down into a valley and entered the outskirts of Corte. Seeing its sleek, modern buildings dispelled the gruesome images. As I neared the turnoff to the university, I slowed to navigate a roundabout and caught my first glimpse of the city’s Citadelle. The ochre fortress rode atop a wave of rock that soared hundreds of feet above the valley floor, casting a long summer-evening shadow which wrapped its dusky fingers around my car.

Photo credit: Les photos de Gaël / HDR / Citadelle 2 corte http://www.deficulturel.net