I remember devouring Isabel Allende’s The House of the Spirits in high school. Most of the pages were dog-eared, with scribbled-on margins and streaks of neon pink highlighter over every other line. I still have that worn-out paperback, and I flip through it every time I need to remind myself why magical stories need to exist as counterweights to the sometimes heavy human experience. Several years later, as I was reading Lovers at the Museum, I felt a familiar flutter of excitement in the pit of my stomach. Its warm, passionate tone and witty humor made me giggle, daydream, and even fall in love.
In this sweet and utterly astute story, a woman and a man who don’t know each other are found, inexplicably and in the wee hours of the morning, sleeping in a loving embrace on the floor of one of the display rooms at the famous Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao. Why are they there? And how is it that, in a place where night guards roam at all hours and security cameras catch even the slightest movement, these two were able to break in and frolic freely, entranced by love? A stubborn police inspector is having none of it—he will not rest until he has squeezed every ounce of information from the couple. It’s a futile attempt to rationalize the authentic and instant connection between these two souls.
Translated from the Spanish by the beloved author herself, this is the perfect short story for readers who love letting go and losing themselves in a plot. A warning, though: mustering any rational thoughts after reading it is impossible. You will be left in a dreamlike haze, and will want to stay in it forever.
—Alexandra Torrealba, Editor