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…