Fiction

Sometimes, when we first started dating, my girlfriend reminded me of my ex, especially when we were kissing, eyes closed. I now wonder if my girlfriend also thinks about our ex when she kisses me, and if she imagines our ex just as I imagine her. Then perhaps neither of us is really present and we are just our ex making out with herself, which would be a turn on for my girlfriend and me and also for our mutual ex, who is self-centered.

The somber ending is commentary on police states like Mexico and America, in which people—haunted by their mistakes, banned from finding work, losing their voting rights, become ghosts in their environments, and wind up, once again, chained to their pasts.

Juania Sueños tradujo esta historia al inglés, y esa versión se puede leer aquí. Se paseaba entre las mesas con su costal de lona como si anduviera en la plaza, esquivando a los que comían y mirando el piso en busca de sabe Dios que. Los clientes se mostraban sorprendidos, incomodos, y seguro les pareció […]

For centuries, a select group of “Sea Women” were plucked from their families to become deep sea divers of octopus, conch, and abalone. It was considered a high honor to become a Sea Woman, and they were also especially hardy, continuing to dive well into their eighties.

You know she knows that by “your coworker,” you really mean Annie, the head of HR, who assured you during the last meeting, the one where it was strongly recommended that you take some time off, that “there’s no shame in the occasional breakdown.”

I hope my last few emails didn’t scare you. I promise that wasn’t my intention. I figured, if my work is going to send you an automated message about me showing up to your place, I should tell you why, and if I’m going to do that, I should tell you what’s really going on, and it turns out waste being lucid isn’t as impossible as they made it seem in training.

Later my brother and I ate french fries in separate cities, at separate times. As was the natural trajectory of growing up, an arc equally appreciable by Euclid, it was nothing to complain about. There were french fries in cups. french fries alongside fried fish. Fries alone, wrapped in a square of butcher paper.

I finally told her only two months ago, and since then I haven’t stopping talking: about Bonnie, about prison, about death. I tell myself Adela can handle it, that her work is this kind of suffering. She’d tell me if it made her suffer, too.