“. . . His thick hands held a sheet cake in a plastic rectangle container. Blackness chafed from his fingers, leaving a bit of the dark shine on the plastic container. . . “
You were the remedy– fierce and destructive, destroying life like Hurricane Maria, doling out blows to your children with unyielding winds, battering hope. She was expected to be the success story, the one to get you out of ‘this damn town’; The favorite, the light-skinned daughter, with good grades and good hair like a Puerto Rican. Forget a harvest. You salted the land.
Short essay analyzing short story “Feral Child” by Stephen Earley Jordan II and public shaming of men, primarily within the latin community; domestic and child abuse; and developing characters for your stories.
I take quests to the Moon, dipping hands in the Milky Way,and toes in stardustas I fly away;I land in one piece,unaware of the length of stay. I mine for the intangible–hopes to find hope,penetrating soil with palms.Venus’ light slopesgiving insight.A departure never envelopes.