Fiction Friday: Chapter 7

Read previous chapters here. Chapter 7 Walt has finally come home. It has been weeks, but he has finally awoken. He is still not the same, not her husband. He talks slowly and incoherently, sometimes being demanding and pushy. Leda reminds herself that he must be frustrated, unable to control his body that has earned... Continue Reading →

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Fiction Friday: Chapter 6

Read previous chapters here. Chapter 6 Soledad climbs the pepper tree in their new backyard, a small house Mama has rented down the road from Abuela’s. The rough bark cuts into her hands, a feeling of adventure and hard work accomplished. Francis is below her, whining that her finger is bleeding, a tiny spot of... Continue Reading →

Fiction Friday: Chapter 5

Read Chapter 1 Read Chapter 2 Read Chapter 3 Read Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Walt is still lying in the futuristic-looking bed, tubes growing from his face and wrist. His eyes remain closed, no gentle flicker to indicate the peaceful sleep of dreamers. Leda stares at him with hard resolve, hoping the sense of being... Continue Reading →

Fiction Friday: Chapter 4

Read Chapter 1 Read Chapter 2 Read Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Soledad is a good girl, quiet and kind, polite and accommodating. She still doesn’t understand why they’ve moved, gone and left Papa in Los Angeles. She asks about him frequently, making Mama’s eyes glisten, a sight that immediately calls guilt to Soledad’s breast. She... Continue Reading →

Fiction Friday: Chapter 3

Read Chapter 1 Read Chapter 2 _______________________________________________________ Chapter 3 Leda is home from the hospital now, not sure what day it is but not really caring. Walt is conscious, so the doctors and Diane convinced her to come home to rest and shower. Relax. She can’t believe they expect her to relax, not after what... Continue Reading →

Fiction Friday: Chapter 2

Read Chapter 1 here. View from the Pepper Tree: Chapter 2 Leda is Soledad again, wielding a stick in the hot night air of Los Angeles. It is a magnolia stick that she and Manuel use as swords. Manuel is careful not to hurt her, for she is young, only four, and very small, just... Continue Reading →

On My Bookshelf, No. 7

To see previous posts in this series, click here. This is my bookshelf. Here is a snippet of what's on it, ten at a time. In Our Time (1925) by Ernest Hemingway The Snows of Kilimanjaro and Other Stories (1961) by Ernest Hemingway The Old Man and the Sea (1952) by Ernest Hemingway Goodbye, Mr.... Continue Reading →

Xicoténcatl: An Anonymous Historical Novel

This might be the most boring and poorly written book ever, but it has historical significance. It’s Xicoténcatl (1870), translated and edited by Guillermo I. Castillo-Feliú. It is an anonymous text, one that attempts to outline the myth of the Americas from the perspective of the natives. It is about the Tlaxcalan people and Spanish... Continue Reading →

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