El recuerdo más vivo que tengo de Carla es ir al parque del centro después de la escuela. Salíamos de clase como a las 3 de la tarde y ahí esperábamos el camión. Carla y yo nos sentábamos en la acera cerca de unos columpios oxidados mientras fumábamos unos cigarros que me traía a escondidas, cosa riesgosa mientras usábamos los uniformes de la escuela. Nos echábamos perfume para intentar camuflar el aroma y no tener que dar explicaciones.

Valeria’s scuffed white converses make muffled thuds as she walks across the gritty, black bus floors. She smiles and says thank you to the bus driver as she gently grips the handrail that guides her off the bus. The blowing breeze chills Valeria’s face, and then the sun warms it back up.

I remember the first thought that came to mind when I sat in the waiting room. It really is just like the movies. It did feel somewhat caring and comforting, but I swear it wouldn’t take long before I’d want to blow my brains out.

“Will you, Vikien? Despite this heat?” “I will, Limiel. If there’s game within the forest, my pack will find it - even with this heatwave upon us." Limiel Desna nodded as she wiped the sweat from her brows, “Good hunting, then. May your children learn what Enia has to offer, Vikien.” “Thank you, Limiel.” I bowed to Limiel, and she bowed back, “My pack will find our prey and bring it home.”

Silas walked into his bedroom and saw his dead sister waiting for him. He went rigid; he always felt a small jolt at the sight of Asa. The first time he saw her after she died, he thought she’d been a hallucination, and he told her as much. He knew ghosts were real. Everybody did, but nobody was prepared to see someone they knew in this state. After a few months, Silas was finally able to confront his sister’s phantom.

-Mamá, me invitaron a una fiesta -Qué bien mi amor, ¿cuándo? -Aquí traigo la invitación -Déjame verla. Sí vamos a poder ir, es tu primera fiesta, no faltaremos. Quiero conocer a tu mejor amigo. Mi bebé ya está creciendo,  a ver un besito a mami. -Te amo mami

Now, I’m by no means a cowboy, but I remember a day when I was one, a day when I led two of my best friends into battle, and into a sweet victory. It was a part of my life when I figured out what type of man I was, and who the type of men I hung out with were. It was the type of day, when we told the story of what happened, no one believed us.

The smell of brown rice topped with black beans flooded the rookie’s nostrils, as the sauna’s steam rose. Alex, a young man bundled in winter gear, embraced the saliva-sapping scent, forcing his bowels to roar. His hardened caramel body was scraped away with each droplet of sweat lost.