Día de las Velitas

While her family was outside, lighting up candles and prendiendo chispitas mariposa—Carmen was inside, eating garlic cloves (one after another and drinking guaro to mourn the life she had lost) she was pale-looking and sick ravenous she would never find love. She would die alone–she was sure–unless! qué hijueputas, she walked outside, on her tippy toes, a current of cold air followed her.

“Mami?” she called to the woman who no longer recognized her.

Mami, again. And when the woman screamed in horror, Carmen spread her wings and took her.


As a master I’m lax, no fertilizer, erratic water.


He always said prayer was begging for scraps that leaked from above, but God wouldn’t make heaven with pores.

AND: Three Micros

He coughed after he chain smoked; there was always some story stuck in his lung.