By Dulce Maria Espinosa
L. a. vida de un adolescente es como una montana rusa con subidas y bajadas: lentas, rapidas, suaves, trepidantes, tristes, felices, sorprendentes, dolorosas, emotivas Asi es los angeles revelacion, transparente y honesta, de Dulce Maria en este libro. / The lifetime of is sort of a curler coaster with ups and downs: sluggish, quick, soft, exciting, unhappy, satisfied, notable, painful, emotional... this is often the revelation, obvious and sincere, of Dulce Maria during this booklet.
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Extra info for Dulce amargo
Example text
Carnations nod in a vase. She fingers the blown glass, its slender neck, the wet crystal lip and the room begins to hum 19 . 20 Qualities of Light The open-mouthed jar fills with light and brittle shadows. The lid is a tight fit— but this isn’t about escape, it’s about absence: bulbs blowing out, wings folding in on a lack. What I need is the stunned buzz of resurrection—lightning bugs stranded on cracked glass gravel, garden hose spraying small skeletons back to life, their sudden loft into night-blind air.
It’s smaller, and your sister is there on the other side of the screen, waiting to be told goodbye. It’s not as if you could hop on your bike and rush back to hug her, although that might enlarge the moment. Instead, the memory keeps shrinking, blinking off and on like fireflies she used to catch in a jar. Their pale light receded as you rode past your father watering the brittle grass full of the ends of other lives. Beyond that extinguished light, the memory of light; and behind that, the sound of your sister pushing through the screen, twisting open the jar.
22 Hindsight The thing about it is its size. It’s smaller, and your sister is there on the other side of the screen, waiting to be told goodbye. It’s not as if you could hop on your bike and rush back to hug her, although that might enlarge the moment. Instead, the memory keeps shrinking, blinking off and on like fireflies she used to catch in a jar. Their pale light receded as you rode past your father watering the brittle grass full of the ends of other lives. Beyond that extinguished light, the memory of light; and behind that, the sound of your sister pushing through the screen, twisting open the jar.