Monday, October 19, 2009. Twenty-two years ago this month, October, 1987, I was visiting London. A few days after my arrival, my mother had a stroke and was brain dead. She was sixty-two and had been perfectly healthy. Yet I had had a premonition before leaving the country that I might never see her again, and had called her from Newark Airport just to say good-bye again. It was still a dozen years before I began writing a memoir. And for the longest time the title was A Ma.

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Un comic de amor y gente rara. 4 Comments on Caballo Negro Chop. Esta semana inauguré la Tienda online de Caballo Negro. Pronto agregaré tazas y así. Cualquier comentario o sugerencia, se agradece. Bull; Powered by WordPress.

Domingo, 16 de noviembre de 2014. 1-La cartita con un corazón rojo que me dio él al salir de la escuela. 2-Su olor a sol y a campo,los destellos de sus ojos como pasto. 3-Las miradas en el estacionamiento de la prepa,de lejos,mientras yo fingía buscar algo en la mochila para quedarme más tiempo en el mismo espacio que él. Qué vida tan genial hasta ahora.