The ChaperoneJuly 2011 What delighted me was watching how the sun changed my appearance. I spent nightly hours in the mirror, describing the new shades and hues of my face or arms to my martin, who was colorblind.
Fairytale SmalltalkSeptember 2010
He says: look yourself up in the guide and tell me what you are.
The Emigrant’s HandBy Manuel Rivas, translated from the Galician by Valerie Saint-Rossy
You could look from one end to the other, but for me there was only Castro’s hand, it held me in a hypnotic grip.