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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2019
My mother came into the kitchen with a blank face. I was sitting at the table, having a toast with olive oil and cheese and a glass of cold water. “We’re leaving,” she said, and sat on the chair across from me. “We’re going to move in with Ahmad in New York.” I set my glass of water down and hid a couple of tears. “What?” “I am tired of Cuba, mi amor. I can’t anymore. I’m tired of going to millions of stores just to get detergent or tomato pa...
The baby yawned and Nora smiled. For one, two, three hours, she stared at the face that peeked out of the white bundle, forgetting the nurses and the other patients and the exhaustion. Out the window, cars drove, friends complained, birds flew, lovers kissed, strangers avoided the rest of the city. But none of this existed to Nora; all she saw was the baby in her arms — the little nose, the little lips, the little everything. In the evening the nurse came back with a tray of chicken...
She arrived earlier than she should have. I led her in through the back door, where she had been waiting for a half hour, and took her into the kitchen. “Would you like coffee?” “No.” “Please, sit here.” She sat down on the seat opposite mine. I drank coffee as she settled her bags beneath the table. “Remind me your name again?”
In the late afternoon we lay on her bed and looked at the ceiling. The ceiling was white and boring but I tried to see beasts in the paint cracks, the way I used to do with the clouds; in the meantime the rain drowned the city and the Malecón faded into the sea as water crashed over the wall, onto the street, onto the occasional car. The air was sweet and cool and it reminded me of something far away. “Are you thinking about him?” ...
As soon as Lelo fell asleep we went out to the balcony for lunch. Lela made mariquitas and black beans, and I cut an avocado for the salad, then dressed it with olive oil and vinegar. We each served ourselves and took the plates outside to eat. Neither one of us spoke while we devoured our food. Once I had finished I gazed at the sea for a few minutes; the water was blue and green and old. When I was younger, we would go down to the coast and swim for hours while Lela sat on the rocks and watched. Enrique was always...
"The business of words keeps me awake. I am drinking cocoa, the warm brown mama." –Anne Sexton, Ambition Bird
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