We slept like sisters she said, her heart broken… las tres en una cama en Venice. It’s all she could bring herself to say still in disbelief. Pero como, ay dios, she would say and sigh as she looked at pictures and told the same stories over and over again as if that would bring … Continue reading we slept like sisters…
She heard the clickety-clack of the horse as he approached and she knew she had stayed out too late…but she also knew he would save her from a scolding. El sol que quedaba del día resplandeciente contra su sombrero… el la miraba con sus ojos azules desde tan alto sentado en su caballo.. todavía olía … Continue reading el extrañarlo mantiene su alma viva
He gazed at his namesake as if for the first time. His mind diseased, his body frail, his family in agony. His end was near and the memories of his past fluttered through his mind in a disarray of jumbled thoughts–the house his hands had built, children he once scolded, grandchildren he teased–all became one. … Continue reading don chucho
What I carry under my skin are memories that have grown from fragmented roots; roots infected by a family history of forsaken children and deserting parents. My father did not raise me. From the time I was 7 years old until I was 18 years old, I saw him only a handful of times. This … Continue reading what i carry under my skin…
estoy desgranando 