About the Writer

I’ve always believed that stories are not about the main character but about the writer. You’ll learn more about me through my stories, but, for this post, I’ll go through the basics…

Advertisements

Two Thousand Continuous Nights

We’d share a call and response every night, phones pressed between cheek and pillow 20.7 miles away. It was an incantation lulling lovers to pass from one consciousness to another…

Your Obituary

You’d assume, given your state, that there would be a total lack of existence, not a transition from it. This residual consciousness challenges your pagan disbelief. You’d say, “Nothing is supernatural because everything in nature is natural.” But for once, you’re separate, outside of the constructs of reality…

The Salt of Fries

I’m surprised the water hasn’t been able to take her away by now. The high tide usually swallows everything whole under the moon’s command. My contemplation is interrupted though. She’s staring at me as if I am an animal, a murderer, or something like that.

“What did you do with him?” she screams. The veins in her throat are pronounced while the sound rips through her windpipe.

I smile and say hello.

Abuelo

Death came with me on the plane to Puerto Rico. I should have known he would because of my grandfather’s lung cancer. In the airport of San Juan, Death picked up his suitcase that was covered in stickers of foreign places and rushed away from us…