Drown by Junot Diaz

I played Andres Jimenez for her – you know, Yo quiero que mi Borinquen sea libre y soberana – and then we drank a pot of café. El Pico, I told her. Nothing but the best. We didn’t have much to talk about. She was depressed and tired and I had the worst gas of my life. Twice I had to excuse myself. Continue reading “Drown by Junot Diaz”