And the River Rises

The hot sun, more focused and potent than ever. “Un sol de lluvia,” he tells me: A rain sun. The suffocating humidity. The slow drip of sweat. A tired hand raised to wipe it away. The smell of fried fish that fills the room and the sound of quiet, satisfied conversation. The incoming, impenetrable darkness of the…

True Beauty

It started as a muffled sound, as if half formed, not yet ready to reveal itself. As I drew closer to the house, however, the sound slowly, tentatively, began to grow bolder. The mid-day sun was at its highest point and life in the village had retreated to the shadows. With every step my feet…