Teacher, traveler, fur baby mom, reader, and writer. I enjoy writing historical fiction stories, fiction, poetry, true crime, and nonfiction.
The 24 Hour Train
Waking Up The thumping pain in my head slowly starts to wake me from a sleepless slumber. I feel the steady rocking of a moving train. With my eyes still shut I curse myself thinking I must have passed out on the subway again. It is hard to keep track of time when your veins are coursing with morphine. That's my drug of choice, it has been that way for the last 5 years. Since I lost everything to gambling. I was once a successful engineer but slowly I started to fill my time with drugs, casinos, and other vices. I lost everything. It's hard to find work now with a criminal record. So pain killers are my home now. Pain killers numb the constant voices in my head that laugh with hysteria at my current state of life.
Hot Snow Cones
There is always something special about going to the paleteria when the sun is blazing and the asphalt feels like hell itself. Where I’m from, we have tons of options for Mexican paletas (popsicles) but there is something I rather get than a sweet popsicle. It’s a spicy snow cone. They are called Diablitos (little devils).
Everyone has different go-to recipe for different times of the year. Lately, I have been on a pasta salad kick. When I was a kid, we always had family get togethers, carnes asadas, (barbeques) and everyone brought dishes. I had one aunt who made the best pasta salad. I have never been much of a meat eater so at carnes asadas, I would always go for her pasta salad.
Camp for Everyone
When I was a kid, I didn’t get to go to sleep away camps like a lot of my classmates did. I did get to go to a weekend camp with my mom and my sisters though. It was once every summer for the Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis foundation at Camp for All. My sisters were both diagnosed with JRA since the age of 1. They are identical twins and unfortunately, it got them both.
I Can Set Up My Own Tent
As a kid, I saw my dad every other weekend. Sometimes though, not even every other weekend, work would come up or he couldn’t come pick up my brother and I. Regardless, I would see my dad as much as he could. I never really had a close relationship with him as a kid. He is a typical Mexican man, he was brought up to believe that women belong in the kitchen with pregnant bellies and obeying their husbands. That word in our culture is, machismo. That’s why my parents didn’t work out. My Ma is and always has been a firecracker, and through the years that didn’t sit well with my dad. They divorced when I was 3.
In the Time of the Dragons
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. But since the advancement of technology and greed has taken over, they've become prevalent in our society. Dragons were things that past generations read about, they were considered mythical creatures, from lands of make-believe. They never existed until now, until man created them. What man wants, man creates. It doesn't matter what it cost or who is hurt in the process.
The House in My Dreams
About a year and a half ago, I bought my own house. I love it, I truly believe that this house was made for me. Anyway, when I first started looking for a home I told my realtor to just make sure that the house was not haunted. To make sure that no deaths had occurred in the house, etc. My realtor did a great job! My house is not haunted and no deaths occurred here. Lately though, I have been having this odd reoccurring dream about a home that is not mine.
Tamales and Needles
Dear Ma, I must confess that Christmas of 2002, I put my hand in the tamalera (a big deep pot for tamale making) and the tamales came out raw (pintos) because of me. It was my fault. I'm sorry, I did so even with all your warnings, but my cousins dared me. That day we all laughed at the mishap and all the aunts scolded us kids asking who had dipped their hand in the tamalera. (It's an old Mexican superstition, the person who puts the tamales in the pot is the ONLY one who can put their hand in before they start cooking, if someone else does, the tamales will not cook. Silly I know, but it's a thing.) Again Ma, I'm sorry.
Lucy & Lizzy
It has been 110 years since the sinking of the Titanic. Many souls were lost in the frightful early hours of April 15th, 1912. Many don't know of the dogs that also lost their lives that night. Twelve dogs were aboard the Titanic and only three survived. This is a story inspired by one of those dogs, Lucy, and her human Lizzy.